Galactic War: Book 3: The Front Line
by ELF Commando
Summary: Adriaan must leave the front lines to take two Jedi wanna-be's before the Jedi Council, while leaving Kan to contend with the CIS invasion of the Syleeto system. Little does Adriaan know that two Zylxxian factions are determined to see the Republic lose.
1. Plans

✶Time period: + nine weeks after the battle of geonosis✶

chapter 1

He noticed that Adriaan had been avoiding him lately, but he hadn't figured out why. Perhaps she just didn't know how to act around him yet; after all, one did not meet a Giant Shi'Odo shapeshifter every day. But he felt that something else was holding her back, making her observe him from a distance.

Ever since their victory over the Separatist army, the Jedi had spent nearly all their time healing those who had fallen sick from the terrible virus released by the CIS to eliminate the Republic presence on the planet. The enemy had attempted to take shipments of the deadly microorganism to different planets, but Klamin had blown up the ship carrying the virus before it could do any harm. Because of his daring actions, Klamin had achieved the status of a hero overnight.

Now he was marching toward the palace kitchens, where the Jedi had mealtimes in-between shifts. Adriaan had divided them up into groups so that a Jedi would always be on duty.

The door hissed open, and he nearly bumped into a reddish-orange being clothed in a bright green tunic. "Ow! Heatrian, watch where you are going!" he shouted, pinching out a flame that had sparked on the sleeve of his tunic. Heatrian was a Pyronite, a rare being consisted almost entirely out of lava. An inhabitant of the Zwel-jic Mountains lying near the capital city, Heatrian had been given as a slave to Klamin two years ago. Klamin had been in no position to refuse the gift of a slave ––– Heatrian would have been put to a cruel death if Klamin had refused to own him ––– so he had taken the Pyronite as his servant, promising to release him as soon as it was possible for him to do so. Once they left the planet with the Jedi, Heatrian would be a free person, to live as he chose.

"Huh? Oh, it's you, Klamin," Heatrian said. "Adriaan's been looking for you."

"She has?" This was surprising news.

"Go in there, WICKED." The Pyronite glided past him, down the hallway. Klamin took a deep breath and strode through the doorway, trying to look purposeful.

She was sitting at the kitchen counter, absently stirring her mug of tea with one finger while listening to her Apprentice, Kan Enik. The thirteen-year-old boy had seen a lot in his time, including the death of his first trainer, Ruru Xelan. Adriaan had felt sorry for young Enik and had offered to take him as her Padawan.

She caught sight of Klamin and said something to Kan, who nodded and began to eat a plate of Kiy'ly pie. She stood up and crossed the room so that she was standing in front of him. "If you are available, I'd like to talk to you for a minute," she said, jerking her head toward a private room in the back. He followed her into the dimly lit space and closed the door.

"What is it? Is something wrong?"

She spun around, her blue eyes thoughtful; wary of him. He'd noticed that she often wore that guarded expression on her face when she was around other people, like she had something to hide. "Maybe, or maybe not; that's what I'm trying to figure out," she replied.

"What is it that you're trying to figure out, then?" he asked, folding his hands across his chest.

Her hands slid out from the folds of her dark cape, and she held out a long, glittering object. Klamin did a double take. It was the knife Falcon had given to him for his fifteenth birthday. He said it had once belonged to a Jedi, the greatest he had ever known. How did Adriaan get a hold of it?

"I picked it up almost three weeks ago, Klamin," she said. "You dropped it when we were chasing Commander Joh-ma. I happen to recognize the design on the hilt." She tapped the dull black handle, where a long red line spiraled from the blade to the hilt in a sinuous pattern. An eight-pointed star shone in the center, gleaming like a red eye. The blade itself was curved, like a boomerang, and it flashed and sparkled with a life of its own. It was his knife, all right. "The eight-pointed star is the insignia of a sith worshipper I thought long dead," Adriaan continued. "His name is Haak, and I would like to know where you got his knife."

"Haak? Never heard of him" Klamin said truthfully. "The Falcon ––– the Jedi you said that left the Order to seek inner peace ––– he gave the knife to me."

"Oh?" She turned the knife over slowly in her hands, as if she could detect the fingerprints of the owner on it. "Did he happen to mention where he got it?"

"He bought it from a dealer, who had bought it from Jawas, who had scavenged it off a dead body," Klamin said, repeating what Falcon had said to him.

She looked relieved, as if he had just told her some very good news. This confused him. Why would she feel happy because the original owner of the knife was dead? Was she afraid that the Haak was somehow alive? The wary, alert look slid momentarily from her face as she handed the weapon to him. "Here, it's yours. I'm sorry I took it, but I sort of forgot about it when I had to leave Hÿÿ."

"Hey, it's all right. I didn't even miss it." Personally, he disliked using the gruesome weapon, but he had never said so to the Falcon. He had only accepted it to be polite. Anyway, it had proven useful on several occasions, including the chase of the Separatist Commander, Joh-ma. He turned the knife over in his hand, inspecting it.

_ "You will know the Jedi who killed your family by a black tattoo on her right wrist, curving up her arm like a snake. It is of the same design as this red decoration on the hilt of this knife."_

He recalled the words that his Jedi trainer had said to him, and turned to the girl. "Does the red marking on the handle mean anything?" he asked, plying her for information.

Her face underwent a strange change. She looked at him sharply before answering. "I have the same design tattooed on my arm," she said, holding up her right hand to show him.

He stared in silence, not able to believe that the black thing twined around her arm really was the tattoo so often described by his wronged Master. Time seemed to freeze ––– everything seemed to melt away, even the girl that was attached to the arm ––– all he could see was the long, black, snakelike design curving up her right wrist, just as it was on the hilt of his knife.

_ No, no ––– it cannot be her, it cannot be…_

"What does it mean?" his voice came out like a choke.

"It is an ancient design used by the Disciples of Ragnos, the first sith lord. When I was an Apprentice, I and my best friend were captured by the cultists and sold into slavery. This design was tattooed on our arms to show that we were property of the dead sith. It has no power over anyone, except maybe over those who worship the dark lord. For they act like mindless monsters, controlled by one being; their sith idol."

Klamin gulped, a spark of hope faintly stirring within him. Perhaps it wasn't this beautiful, young girl that had killed his family after all. "Who was the other one with this mark ––– your friend?"

She hesitated. "My best friend was a girl of considerable potential. Ra'hal Espera. She died two years ago."

His heart leaped inside him, and he felt like screaming for joy. The murderer had already paid for her crime. His task was completed by someone else. He could have hugged Adriaan out of relief, but he felt that she wouldn't like it, or understand why he did it. So he merely bowed. "I am sorry to hear that, Master."

She smiled, but the smile was twisted, as if it pained her. "Don't be; she was the worst person that ever trained at the Jedi Temple. Even Master Yoda admitted it. Now, let us leave these dark subjects and turn to a lighter topic. I think it is time we turned to the subject of your own Apprenticeship…"

Klamin stood up straighter. "And Heatrian's."

"Yes, and Heatrian's." She rubbed her forehead, looking at him thoughtfully. "I received a call from the Jedi Council this afternoon. The reinforcements will arrive in two days. I am going to take a risk and leave the responsibility of leading the attack on the Kiyp belt to Kay Lee and Kan, while I take you and the Pyronite to the Jedi Temple, where you can be evaluated. I'm going to have to check with Kay and Kan on this, but I'm sure they'll agree to the plan. It'll also give me an opportunity to give my report in more detail to the Jedi Council. Sound good?"

"Yeah, but…" There was one thing that had been bothering him lately. "What if I –––"

"What if you what? You must remember that with Jedi, there are no 'if's ––– there are only 'do's"

"Well, what if…ah, what do I, er…what if I flunk out?"

She leaned back her head and roared with laughter. It was a long, clear laugh that rang tauntingly in his ears. "You won't fail," she gasped, her face contorted with an effort to keep her mirth inside. "Not with the story I'm going to tell the Council. The only thing they'll hesitate on is your age. Do you suppose you could shapeshift and appear before them as an infant?"

Klamin grinned. "Piece of cake."

* * * * *

Kay Lee sat at the table, watching the clouds of steam rise from her cup of tea. It had been a rather boring week ––– sure, patrolling the city and distributing medicine to the people was good work ––– it just wasn't as fun as chopping down droids. She was an action-type person, and she felt like she was about to go through the roof. There had to be _something _she could do.

She wondered when Adriaan would get a chance to talk to her. After all, she had promised to help Kay Lee figure out a way that she could finish her Jedi training, with her Master being dead. Kay would always feel grateful to the young Jedi, who had literally plucked her and her fellow orphaned Apprentice, Andre, from the gutter and taken them under her wing. Without Nadma Okiwa and Ku-ku N'ut ––– their late Masters ––– for guidance, Kay Lee and Andre felt like children who had lost their mother.

Just then, the storage room adjacent to the kitchen opened up, and Kay watched as Adriaan and Klamin strode out. The Jedi nodded at the Force-sensitive shapeshifter and walked toward one of the tables. Perhaps she had been speaking to Klamin about future plans with his training; he had learned the basic ways of the Force from a Jedi recluse, and wished to learn more. Adriaan had offered to have him and Heatrian to be tested at the Jedi Temple. Kay Lee often wondered how that would work out. New students had to fulfill certain requirements for the Council to approve of their admission into the Order. All too often, powerful Force-sensitives were turned away because they were deemed to be too old to begin training. A Jedi must have no ties to the outside world, no family bonds to hinder his training. That was why many of the Jedi living there had been raised at the Temple from the time they were infants.

"Mind if I sit here with you?"

Kay Lee, brought out of her musings, nodded at Adriaan. The blond Jedi Knight sat down gracefully, folding her legs underneath her and placing her hands on her knees in a meditative position. At sixteen, Adriaan was officially the youngest Jedi Knight in recorded Temple history, and she was the laziest, most easy-going Jedi Kay Lee had ever met. Standing tall at 1.6 meters, the lanky, long-legged girl had a masculine strength that had no doubt terrified boys in her Apprentice days. Her usually long, waist-length golden hair had been shorn to the more practical shoulder-length. A lock of hair drooped in front of one eye, lending her an edgy, almost rakish appearance. Kay Lee absently fiddled with her own reddish-blond ponytail as she gulped down the last of her tea.

"I have a plan, Kay," Adriaan said suddenly, tossing her hair and turning her bright blue gaze to Kay Lee, "but you don't have to go along with me if you don't feel comfortable with it."

"I won't know that until you tell me," Kay Lee said, folding her arms across her chest. "What's on your mind?"

"Something sort of crazy," Adriaan said. "It will no doubt be exciting for you and Kan, but tedious for me."

"Huh?"

"In the past week, you and my Apprentice have shown extraordinary leadership skills," Adriaan said. "When I was captured and forced to consider negotiations with the CIS, you handled the situation well…unusually well for kids at your level of training."

It was a rare compliment from Adriaan, but it was true. Soon after the Republic had won the capital back, the Separatist General had contacted them, telling them that he had an antidote for Actin 3, the virus that had been killing the Zylxxians. Adriaan had taken the bait and was captured, but she managed to give Kay Lee and another Apprentice time to escape. Kay and Andora had helped discover a real cure to the virus, and had come back to rescue Adriaan in the same day. It was also Kay Lee who came up with the plan to blow up the droid factory. In a way, Kay Lee had helped clinch the Republic victory on Zylxx.

"Considering that you have shown startling maturity and calmness in handling urgent situations, I am planning to leave you and Kan in charge of attacking the Kiyp belt until my return."

Kay Lee broke into a pleased grin, unable to push down her elation. She had never been on a mission on her own, and the sudden danger and responsibility of making all the decisions intrigued her. To think that there would be no Masters here to correct her, or to make their own plans…it would be heaven.

_Stop grinning like an idiot. A Jedi doesn't put on airs. If you take this assignment, you have to take it seriously. No goofing off. _She swiftly replaced her smile with a mask of intense concentration.

"Where are you going, Adriaan?"

"The Jedi Temple on Coruscant. Remember? I promised Klamin and Heatrian that I'd try to get them in. Also, I'd like to speak to the Council about your own future. Andre, too. You are an older Apprentice, so it might be a little complicated. If it all works out, I think you'll be very happy."

"What are you planning to do?" Kay Lee asked.

The Jedi smiled, showing a row of clean teeth. "That's a surprise."

Kay was not used to making up her mind quickly, but for once, she knew exactly what she wanted to do. "I'll do it," Kay Lee decided. "I need a change of atmosphere; I need some action. Oh, this is going to be exciting!"

"This may be more excitement than you can handle," Adriaan warned. "Just remember that I am always available to call for advice, and Commander Urak will be here to assist you, too. I would recommend that you should consult with the clone before trying anything…unnecessarily rash."

"Well, okay," she said, "but I have a question: are the other Apprentices going to be left here?"

She didn't voice her opinion aloud, but she didn't really go for the idea of dealing with the Wicked Club. She wasn't used to them yet, like Adriaan was.

"Kan will stay," Adriaan said. "I just need to tell him the news. I'm sure he'll be glad to stay here; he's always wanting me to give him more responsibility. I feel bad about doing this, but I'm also going to have to leave the Wicked Club and Andora here, too. I just don't see any reason why I should bring them with me back to the Temple."

Kay felt her heart sink at the news. Quickly she straightened, squaring her shoulders. She didn't know if she was up to dealing with the crazy Apprentices, but she certainly didn't want Adriaan to know. "That's okay," Kay said, trying to sound unconcerned. "I can just make Andora babysit them until you return."

Adriaan laughed. "Good plan. Now, Kan should be off-duty soon; I'm going to go tell him the news. See you later."


	2. On Patrol

chapter 2

He wondered when Adriaan would finally speak to him. He hadn't talked to her in three weeks. He had tried, but it seemed as thought the entire universe had united against him, making it impossible to have even a five-minute conversation with his own Master. The Shi'Odo and that Kay Lee girl were getting in the way, ruining his relationship with his Master. No one should be allowed to do that. Yet it had happened. Kan had, once more, dropped to a minority.

At least Adriaan knew that he would need work to curb the sudden impatience he felt to attack the CIS. She had given him regular Jedi duties like the rest of them, but she had organized the crew so that she was on a different shift. Whether it was coincidental or on purpose, Kan did not know, but Adriaan had given him the same shift as Andora Kenobi, the surly twin sister of the most annoying kid in the universe, and that alone was enough to make him ticked off at her.

At least the work they were doing was constructive. Their main goal was to make rounds in the city every day, visiting the sick, distributing the anti-viral medicine, and more importantly, boosting the hopes of the discouraged beings living in the slums. They had been weighed down for so long by the harsh rules of their society, it was no wonder that their vitality and strength had left them so soon.

Kan knew that the real problem lay at the heart of the Zylxxian culture. For centuries, they had had prejudices against certain races. When the Republic had been young, the Zylxxians had invaded the planet, conquering the Pyronite natives that dwelt in tribes in the mountains. Since it was against Zylxxian law to use droids for labor, the volcanic species had been enslaved and used as a superior substitute to droids, since it was against their beliefs to make machines do the menial work. Technically, the Republic's antislavery laws did not apply to Pyronites since they were not proven to be sentient beings.

Kan's steps slowed as he spotted a fountain lying in the square. A young Zylxxian girl was struggling to fill her bucket with the precious water. The purplish-black scars on her translucent skin showed that she had been a victim of Actin 3. Perhaps she had recently recovered, and now had to do all the work to keep the rest of her family alive.

He stopped by the well, his mind made up to help the girl, who looked not much older than his best friend, Jordin. He touched her lightly on one of her limp Mak'Oki, and she whirled around, startled. She began to scold in the clattering language of her people. Kan stepped past her and filled the bucket, then turned around and held it out. The girl stared. Kan made a gesture with his free hand, pointing toward the bucket to show that he wanted to carry it to her house for her. The Zylxxian shook her head, her tentacles swaying in the breeze. Suddenly they darted out and snatched it from his hands. The girl clutched the bucket to her chest as she ran off into the darkness, leaving Kan standing alone by the fountain.

His hands burned where one of her Mak'Oki had lashed him. It might have been accidental, but it still hurt his feelings. He had only been trying to help, and the Zylxxian had only snubbed him. Perhaps that was what hurt him more than the whip-like welts on his hands. Sucking on his wrist to soothe the searing pain, he trudged on down the street.

This was the first time he had encountered someone that had not wanted his help. The other citizens had been polite and showed their gratitude to him. This girl had acted like he was about to mug her. Well, it was time she learned to know the difference between a Jedi and a gangster.

_Speaking of gangsters, I_'_d better check out some of the other streets. It's not safe in a city like Hÿÿ these days._

It was as he was turning the corner of Quasar Court when he heard the sound of transparisteel shattering, and a young child screaming in Zylxxian. Though he didn't understand the native tongue, he knew by the tone of the voice that the person was in trouble.

He made a swift calculation, then darted down a side alley. His boots skidded across the duracrete pavement as the sound of a scuffle drew nearer. They were in the next alley.

"I declare, Kan Enik, you are more sluggardly than a worrt when it comes to running. It is obvious that you have neglected your physical training for some time."

A small child with floating dark hair and a round, moonlike face spotted with freckles ran past him and plunged headlong into the alley. Kan groaned. It seemed that no matter what he did, or how well he did it, Andora Kenobi always found something to complain about. The only thing she had in common with her twin brother, Aedan, was that she could get on Kan's very last nerve in the time it took to blink.

He quickened his pace so that he was running alongside of Andora. Even though he didn't like her, he knew it would be best if they both charged in at the same time. These bullies would be too cowardly to face two Jedi, or two Jedi students, anyway. Kan and his companion withdrew their lightsabers, piercing the dim evening light with two shafts of intense green light.

There were four of them in the alley, not counting the victim. It was the girl Kan had seen earlier by the well. She was crouching on the floor, bent nearly double, as if trying to protect something from the circling gangsters. Their leader, a squat alien with one eye in the middle of its forehead, saw the two charging Padawans before the others did. He barked in order in a code or foreign language that Kan did not understand, but it was obvious what he meant. The thieves melted back into the shadows and fled; Kan could hear four pairs of feet slapping on the street fade off into the distance, so he knew that they were gone.

Kan stepped forward and knelt by the victim, checking her for broken bones. The Zylxxian's Mak'Oki were shaking uncontrollably. The bucket of water had been smashed to the ground in the mugging, and the precious liquid lay in a pool on the warm duracrete.

"Are you all right?" Kan asked uncertainly. He thought the girl was going to snub him again.

But the eyes turned toward Kan were full of gratitude. "_C'um Diyai Massa xxx Jkk,_" she said, ducking her head in a sign of respect.

"Can you stand?" Andora asked.

The girl nodded, and Kan gave her his hand to help her up. Her yellow-green eyes sparked back to life as she looked at the Jedi Padawans. "_Vja c'um hyxx ikwa Jkk,_" she said. Suddenly, to Kan's surprise, she bowed low to the ground.

"Please, little girl, pray do not flatter us with your gracious words," Andora said, looking very displeased by the Zylxxian's actions. "We are only Jedi students, dedicated to bring peace and prosperity to the Republic."

The girl's eyes shone as she took Kan's hand into her Mak'Oki. "Andora, do you know what she is saying?" Kan hissed to his companion.

"As a matter of fact, I do. Unlike you, I did not neglect my foreign language studies. She is very grateful to us for saving her life. She says that she is our honored slave. I told her that we shouldn't be thanked."

"Well, we did save her life," Kan said.

Andora folded her arms across her chest. "All life is sacred, so it is only our duty to preserve it."

"Of course." Andora could really get annoying with her preaching the Jedi rules to him. "What is she doing?"

"Touching another being with their right secondary Mak'Oki is an ancient Zylxxian gesture used only on those who are close family. By the way, it is a great honor for someone such as you to be accepted as a friend."

"_Miya Stari," _the Zylxxian said, pointing a long, tentacled finger at herself.

"She says her appellation is Stari," Andora said.

Kan bowed. "I am Kan Enik, and this is Andora Kenobi."

The girl nodded gravely. "_Na'un pari xxx Hÿÿ baru jinkwa._" Her Mak'Oki waved vaguely in the direction of the main street.

"She says that her house is the first one on Nebula Street," Andora said. "I guess she means for us to come to her if we need any help in the city."

"What did she say about Hÿÿ?" Kan asked.

"In Zylxxian, Hÿÿ is the word for 'house' or 'southern domain' Stari was referring to _her _Hÿÿ, or home."

"Thank you, Stari. We will be sure to ask you for help if your help is needed," Kan said, smiling at the Zylxxian.

Zylxxian's could not really smile; they showed amusement or happiness by crinkling around the eyes and waving their Mak'Oki wildly. That was what Stari did. She bowed again, then scampered off into the darkness.

Andora let out a deep breath. "Finally. I feared that we would never be able to get rid of her."

"What are you talking about?" Kan asked, irritated. "If we have to stay here for much longer, I think she could be useful. Besides, I like her; she was very friendly once she knew our intentions."

The girl shrugged. "You shouldn't trust someone just because they are friendly to you," she said primly. "I believe our shift is over. Let us leave right now so that we'll arrive with our report punctiliously."

"Whatever," Kan said. "I'm hungry, anyway."

Andora frowned blackly, but Kan did not wait to hear her reproving remark. He started off down the street, looking neither to the right or the left, yet alert to his surroundings. He could sense a fly resting on a wall on the next street; that was how acute his Force senses had become. When Adriaan learned of this, he knew she would be proud.

Yes, Andora had been right; they owed Adriaan a report, but what Kan thought she needed to hear most was a report of her Apprentice's progress. She hadn't been paying much attention to him lately ––– which was all right, with the war going on ––– but still. She was spending too much time with that Shi'Odo freak and the crazy teenage orphan.

It was time that she started paying attention to her own Apprentice.

* * * * *

When Kan followed Andora through the sliding the door that led to the kitchen area, he immediately sensed that something was wrong. At first he couldn't tell why he felt that something was amiss, because the scene was completely normal. Heatrian and Minir were sullenly washing dirty plates, Kien was picking his nose and smiling at the cloud of fleas over his head, Andre was talking animatedly to Jahn Pal and Sai'wer, who were both fast asleep and deaf to the one-sided conversation. Terry and Na'thin were engaged in a fist fight, while Aedan, the ruler of the Wicked Club, was deep into a game of sabacc with Klamin. Kay Lee was absently kicking a ball back and forth between her feet, so the dark figure standing beside Klamin's chair could only be Adriaan.

It was this last person that made Kan stop and do a double-take ––– something about the way she stood, her stance ––– she was not brooding inside herself, as she normally did. She was speaking quietly to Klamin as he contemplated his next move in the game.

_What's wrong with talking to Klamin?_

Perhaps the surge of emotion that was overpowering him right now was jealousy. Yes, he was jealous of this Force-sensitive nobody because Adriaan was paying attention to him, while neglecting her own Padawan. She was leaving Kan to trudge in the shadow of the abominable Andora. Adriaan had rarely interacted with anyone in the outside world, so why wasn't he happy that she was showing more interest in the people around her?

_She shouldn't be expected to take care of every lost child that comes knocking on her door._

He didn't exactly know why he felt ticked off, but he certainly didn't see any reason to feel positive, either. Not knowing what else to do, he let his feelings take control and allowed himself to stomp to the opposite end of the room, as far away from his Master as possible. He didn't care if she noticed that he was mad, because he _was. _He plopped down into a vacant seat and began to kick the table with vehemence.

"Hey, Kan! I'm so happy to see you!"

How could she sound so easy, so happy? Didn't she know that she had made him upset? Perhaps he was expecting too much out of her; he doubted whether she understood or felt human emotion at all.

Adriaan swung one leg over a stool and sat down next to him. "I was about to send someone to look for you, but it seems as if you knew that I wanted you."

"I didn't know; I just came because my shift was over," Kan said shortly. "Anyway, how should I know if you wanted me or not? I barely know you."

She didn't have a comeback for that one. He felt a surge of triumph at having bested her, but then he immediately felt guilty. What was wrong with him lately anyway? She had been so warm and friendly, welcoming him as soon as he came back, and he had only repaid her with rudeness. Some Apprentice. No wonder she didn't spend a lot of time with him.

"You're right, you _don't _know me, do you?" Adriaan said softly, in a tone Kan had never heard her use before. It was strange, and sad, and it made his skin prickle and his hair stand on end.

"I'm sorry," Kan said. "I don't know why I said that to you. Can you forgive me?"

But she didn't seem to be listening to him. Her gaze was vacant, as if she were looking at something far back in her past. There was an odd, wistful smile that curled at her mouth. Kan began to feel disturbed. "Ree?"

She shook herself, coming back to the present moment. She sighed and looked at Kan. "You know what, Kan? _No one _really knows me."

He didn't know what to say. A fleeting vision of his Master as an Apprentice floated before his eyes. _"Don't walk away like the…like the rest…"_

_ Funny, she never told me who her Master was. It is as if her life began when she became a Jedi Knight._

"I suppose that we have talked enough about me," Adriaan said, grinning sideways at him. "I guess that you are wondering why I wanted to see you."

"Well, you haven't had a chance to really speak to me about last week's events yet," Kan said, attempting a grin.

Her face fell. "No, I suppose I didn't. But that's not why I wanted to see you."

"Oh?" Something started to knot up inside his stomach. He could tell what she was going to say wasn't going to be good news for him.

"You see, Kan, as Jedi, we must not dwell on the past," she began. "We must accept our mistakes, count our successes, and move on. Right now, it is time to focus on our future as Master and Apprentice."

The words punched him in the stomach. "You, you mean that you're going to…dissolve my Apprenticeship to you?" It was not unheard of, of course, but it was a complicated and difficult decision for a Master to make. Jedi only did that when they thought that they couldn't train the Padawan to the best of their abilities, and that was rare for a Jedi Master to make a mistake like that. Why would Adriaan do that to him? He hadn't done anything to make her want to get rid of him, had he? "Please, Master Ree, don't make me go away; no one in the Temple will even consider to take me as their Apprentice…"

"Why would I make you go away, Kan?" Adriaan said, smiling. "Actually, Captain, I need you to stay here with Commander Lee, and help conduct the attack on the Kiyp Belt."

Kan could hardly believe his ears. "Me? A Captain?"

She grinned, seeing his pleasure at the sudden elevation in rank. "Yeah. You'll be helping Kay Lee, who will be the Commanding Officer in charge until my return. If you need any help, Commander Urak will be here to assist you. Otherwise, you can contact me via comlink."

"'Captain Kan'" he murmured. "Yes, the name fits well, but I will still have to prove that I am worthy of my title." Then he frowned. "But what about you? Where will you be?"

Her blue eyes met his steadily. "You have probably suspected this, but I'm taking the Shi'Odo and the Pyronite before the Council. If the Council can just see past their age, I think that Klamin and Heatrian would do well as Jedi. Also, Yoda has mentioned that I might become the trainer of the first Padawan Clan. I'm going to the Temple now, to discuss these matters further."

She sat there, her legs swinging against the stool as she smiled at him expectantly. Kan looked at her, stunned. It took awhile for his brain to register what she was saying. _Trainer of multiple Padawans. She won't be just MY Master. She will be someone else's. Klamin and Heatrian, Jedi. Me, alone…_

"I see you'll need time to digest all this," Adriaan said, taking his silence for speechless excitement. "After all, you'll be given a lot of responsibility from now on. But I have confidence in you, Kan. I know you can do this for me."

"I know I can do it," Kan said abruptly. "It's just that…"

"Just what? Something is troubling you, young Kan. What is it?"

His voice failed him. "K-k-k-klamin…"

She looked surprised. "Klamin? Is that all you're worried about? Eh, he and Heatrian will be all right; they're rather old to become Jedi students, but in times like these, I'm sure the Council will be more willing to make exceptions. Don't worry, Kan, I'll make sure the two are well taken care of."

He nodded, his face burning with anger and shame. Adriaan had mistaken what he was really going to say. He didn't want Klamin and Heatrian to try out as Jedi. His Master was allowing herself to become too connected to them. She was taking them under her wing, as if they were her own Apprentices. _And they just might become that if I don't watch out…_

"Kan?" Adriaan's voice floated lightly over his head. "Are you feeling well? You look pale."

_I can't let her know that I'm mad. She'll think that I'm a terrible person for not wanting Klamin and Heatrian to have a fair chance at becoming Jedi. She'll hate me if she knows that that's what I think of it. _"Eh, it's nothing," Kan said aloud. "I'm just hungry."

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to interrupt your mealtime. Certainly. Go and get something to eat."

He looked at her sharply; he couldn't tell whether she was being sarcastic or not. But no, her face had a faraway, absent look, as if her mind was on something else. _Probably on what she's going to say to the Council, _Kan thought angrily. Feeling unwanted, he stood up and stalked toward the counter, where Andora was dishing up bowls of soup.

It was a thin broth, for supplies from the Kiyp belt had stopped arriving since the CIS had taken control of it. Zylxx was a barren planet, and depended upon the local asteroid belt for most of their necessities. The people of Zylxx ate what food they had sparingly, but by now, the supplies had run low. The Jedi were used to surviving on very little, but even they would eventually succumb to starvation unless they were able to take back the Kiyp belt.

Kan took a bowl and drank the soup standing, draining every precious drop from the container. Wiping his mouth across his sleeve, he headed toward the pantry to look for something more substantial.

"Excuse me, sir."

Kan sighed and turned reluctantly around. A clone was standing stiffly at attention behind him, holding a comlink in his white-gloved hand. "Yes?"

"There is a transmission from the Capital for Commander ell Talaan, sir."

The Capital. He must mean the Capital of the Republic, Coruscant, which was also the home of the Jedi Temple. Perhaps they were sending more reinforcements. Kan jerked his head towards Adriaan's table. "Over there."

_It's either reinforcements, or some secret Council plot that Adriaan isn't letting anyone in on, _Kan thought as he watched his Master take the comlink from the clone. He wondered if this transmission would alter Adriaan's plans in any way. Probably not; once his Master came up with a plan, she usually stuck to it until the end.

Whoever it was on the other end, certainly had something to say that interested her, for she began talking rapidly, gesturing with her arms animatedly. She waved in Kan's direction, beckoning for him to join her. He sighed and shuffled towards the table.

"Auxiliary troops closing in from the Southeast? The fools…the CIS are attacking the outer gates of Hÿÿ," she said to the Apprentices crowding around her. "A small force, probably a diversion to get some important officials off-planet. Captain Kan, take the Wicked Club and a platoon of clones to meet them head-on. Kay Lee, Andora, go around the city and try to surround them. Commander Urak will take a squad and try to cut through their ranks. Klamin and Wicked Heatrian will follow me. Got it?"

So it hadn't been from Coruscant after all. The transmission had come from Zy'yx-zi-si-wi, the capital city of Zlyxx.

"I don't want to be with you, GOOD," Heatrian sulked. "I want to be WICKED and stay with the WICKEDS."

"Too bad." Adriaan turned flashing eyes upon the Pyronite's face, causing him to look away. "Actually, I wanted you and Klamin to come with me because I need to see you guys in combat. I have a Council to impress, you know."

"Besides, since Adriaan and Klamin are both GOOD, you need to WICKEDLY come with them and make sure the plan doesn't GOODLY fail," Kien said encouragingly.

"Yeah, at least you don't have to deal with the stupid girly-boys," Minir hissed, his eyes shooting daggers at the Wicked Club's "geniuses"

"Is he referring to us, Omniscient Cousin?" Jahn Pal asked Sai'wer.

Sai'wer scratched his head. "Nah; I think he was referring to himself."

The cousins sniggered at their own joke.

"That's enough," Adriaan said. "Move out!"

"And may the Force be with you," Kay Lee finished.


	3. Whiners and Stony Hearts

chapter 3

The battle promised to be boring. The CIS had lost all their STAPS and ATTs, so all Kan had to worry about was taking out the infantry. The whole mission was lame; even the clones seemed to slouch in their usually tight formation. He turned to his platoon and shook his head. "You know what to do, men: fire at will!"

Adriaan had the only cool part of the battle: blocking the Separatists from their escape. It was probably just a handful of Neimodian politicians that had gotten stuck on the planet. Once she captured them, his Master would no doubt just ship them off to Coruscant to be dealt with in the Senate.

He stifled a yawn as blasterfire erupted around him. He activated his lightsaber slowly, lazily deflecting the bolts back at the droids. It was really too easy for him by now. A droid broke through the front line, so he raised a hand and watched as the Force catapulted it backward into the line of droids. His comlink signaled, and he flicked it on as he continued to swing his lightsaber to block the fire. "Yeah?"

"Keep your focus, Kan; stop being lazy," Adriaan said over the static.

Kan sighed prodigiously and threw his lightsaber at five droids, who immediately disintegrated into a shower of sparks and flaming metal. "Yes, Master," he said.

_ "K-k-a-a-a-n-n."_

He grinned. "Sorry, Ree." One of the things that made his Master different from the other Jedi was that she had always insisted that he call her by her first name, or her nickname, Ree. "Being called 'Master ell Talaan' makes me feel sick to my stomach," she had said. Kan still wasn't used to Adriaan's lack of formality yet.

Just then, a squad of droidekas rolled up and stood, pointing their laser cannons at Kan and his battalion. Well, this promised to make the battle interesting. A little too interesting for Kan. He had never liked fighting destroyer droids because they fired much faster and with more accuracy than regular battle droids.

"W-W-W-W-W-W-W-W-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-C-C-C-C-C-C-C-C-K-K-K-K-K-K-K-K-E-E-E-E-E-E-E-E-D-D-D-D-D-D-D-D-D!!!!!"

Eight Padawans suddenly popped out of nowhere and began demolishing the destroyers. For once, Kan was glad for the Wicked Club's unexpected arrival. He hadn't relished the idea of taking out that whole line of droids himself. Aedan and company usually insisted on being with the front line of clones because they liked to take the brunt of the battle. Adriaan allowed them to be at the front of the battle because it not only made the universe a little more bearable because she pleased them, it also increased the chance of the Wicked Club getting blasted to smithereens or getting run over by an ATT. Kan suspected that that was the main reason Adriaan put them where the fighting was heaviest.

A boy with dark curly hair that flew wildly in the wind stopped long enough to grin mockingly at Kan. "Too GOOD to take out droidekas, slowpoke?" he called out teasingly.

Kan glared at Andre and leaped for a droideka, slicing it to little pieces and using the Force to slam the debris into firing battle droids. Andre was a newer member of the Wicked Club ––– he had arrived with Kay Lee on Zylxx a few weeks ago, and had immediately taken to the Wicked Club's mischievous ways. He often babbled so that no one could really understand what he was saying, but Kan had been able to piece together that Andre's Master had been killed in a CIS takeover. Adriaan was going to take his case before the Council when she went back to Coruscant.

"We're all done over here, kid!" Adriaan's voice sounded fuzzy through the comlink. "Take out the rest of the droids and meet me back in the city."

"All right!" Kan yelled, slicing another droid in half. "Catch anything?"

"A bunch of slimy, greedy, cowardly Trade Federation bantha-brains," Adriaan replied. "See ya."

* * * * *

When Kan arrived, the rest of the Jedi were already there. The clones moved aside respectfully so that Kan could join the group. Adriaan was seated on a large black chair, her arms folded and her elbows leaning on the armrest. The prisoners ––– three richly dressed Neimodians ––– stood before her, wringing their hands anxiously and casting nervous glances at Klamin, who was casually fiddling with his lightsaber hilt. The rest of the Jedi had encircled Adriaan and the prisoners, closing off all means of escape.

"…I hope you realize, you gobs of Hutt slime, that this system is a member of the Galactic Republic, and for someone to attack a city on this planet is against the laws of the Senate," Adriaan said, looking as stern as her young face would allow.

"P-p-p-p-please, noble Jedi," a pale-faced male with a tri-horned hat stammered. "We had no idea that our droids were attacking your beloved city. You see, we were in the process of evacuating the planet, before Zylxxian officials arrested us."

"It seems as though your plan has failed," Adriaan said coldly. Her probing blue gaze swept the prisoners with undisguised scorn. "You there!" she said suddenly, pointing to one. "I demand an explanation for your presence on this planet! You were sent here to command the CIS droids, yes?"

The alien jumped, rubbing his hands on his septsilk robe in a nervous gesture. "We are rather important advisors to Nut Gunray, the Viceroy of our Federation," he said, sounding slightly indignant. "Beings of our rank do not command troops from the field."

"Of course not," she replied, her voice thick with sarcasm. "Count Dooku doesn't need the humiliation of his commanding officers fleeing at the first sight if blasterfire."

The Wicked Club burst into appreciative guffaws at the joke. Neimodians were well-known for their greed and cowardice, preferring safety as high-ranking, rich officials, who could have as many bodyguards as they wanted.

Adriaan paused before continuing. "So you command your troops from the base, correct?"

The Neimodian shifted uncomfortably, nodding.

"So your droids are still on the planet? They have not left yet?"

"Please, young Jedi, we had no evil intentions when we came here…"

"Answer the question," Adriaan snapped. "Your droid army could not have possibly left the planet; our intelligence units would have been able to pick them up before they got away. So where are you keeping them?"

He blinked his red eyes, exchanging a glance with his companions. _He's going to lie, _Kan realized.

"On the northern continent," he said finally.

Adriaan stared hard at him. The Neimodian squirmed.

"Interesting," she said.

The alien blinked again.

"Klamin!" she called. He stepped forward. "You know this planet better than I do. Would you kindly tell these womp rats the name of the northern continent?"

Klamin grinned. "It doesn't have a name."

"Yes, it does," the Neimodian insisted.

"It doesn't even exist!" Klamin said, shapeshifting into a Neimodian that was an exact duplicate of the exasperated Separatist. Neimodian-Klamin rubbed his hands together, imitating the alien's nervousness. Everyone exploded into fits of laughter. The Separatists huddled together, terrified.

"I think now would be a good time for you to cooperate with me," Adriaan said, smiling.

"We have been," the Separatist said. "We would never think of lying to a Jedi…"

"Then apparently, you never think," Adriaan snapped. The Wicked Club giggled. "Would you like Klamin to get a map of Zylxx and show you?"

The Neimodian looked defeated. "No."

"Then it's settled." She leaned back in her chair and eyed them thoughtfully. "You admit, then, that you violated the Republic law and attacked a city without due reason?"

"But we do not belong to the Republic," they protested.

"Nevertheless, this is a Republic planet, so you are in Republic territory," Adriaan said. "Therefore, you are subject to our laws. You are dismissed." She rose, and Commander Urak immediately stepped forward. "Urak, when the reinforcements arrive, I want these prisoners transferred immediately to the ships bound for home. In the meantime, keep them in the city prison, but treat them well. I also want a complete profile on all three of them. Understood?"

"Yes, Commander." The clone jerked his head at four clones, who marched toward the prisoners and led them away.

Adriaan stood up and strode past the line of troops, eyeing them critically. Finding no fault in the flawless formation of troops, she turned back to Commander Urak. "Report, Commander!"

Urak saluted. "Master ell Talaan, the reinforcements have just left hyperspace, and they have made contact."

"That was fast," Adriaan murmured. "I wasn't expecting them till at least tomorrow. Plug the coordinates of the assault ships into the database of a small shuttle. I'll inspect the troops before I leave for Coruscant."

"Very good, sir."

"Don't call me 'sir' If you can't cut the formalities, just say, 'yes, ma'am'"

"Yes, sir…I mean, ma'am."

"While I'm gone, I'll need you to help lead the attack on the Kiyp Belt. I don't know how long I will be detained by the Jedi Council, so I don't want to waste any time. Zylxx's supplies will hold out for another week, then we're finished. I expect us to have the asteroid belt back by then."

"Yes, ma'am. Will I be the acting Commander during your absence?"

"Yes and no. The Jedi Apprentice, Kay Lee, will serve in my place until my return. My own Padawan, Kan Enik, will also remain behind. You are to instruct them on how to proceed if things get too complicated for them. Your troops will address them as 'Commander Lee' and 'Captain Enik' Is that understood?"

"Perfectly, ma'am." Urak did not look convinced that two Jedi students would be able to command the assault.

"They'll do fine, Urak. Kay Lee is not as young as you think; she is the same age as me. Kan is thirteen, but he's surprisingly mature for his age."

Kan frowned, perplexed. _That's weird; I remember Adriaan tell me that she was_ eighteen _years old. Kay Lee is only sixteen. Is Adriaan lying about her age?_

"I did not object, ma'am," Urak said.

"Of course you didn't…but you looked uncertain." She whirled around and faced the troops. "Dismissed. Return to the barracks and get some rest. Tomorrow morning, I expect all of you to be prepared to leave. Commander Lee."

Kay Lee stepped forward uncertainly. "Yes, uh…yes ma'am!"

"You will follow me to the assault ships arriving from Coruscant. After I inspect the troops, I will leave, and you will be the acting Commander. Set your fleet's coordinates for the Kiyp Belt immediately after my departure. I want a full report a week from today."

"When do you expect to return to duties, ma'am?" Kay Lee asked respectfully.

Adriaan's eyes darted toward Klamin and Heatrian. "When I return," she said finally. "However far into the future that may be."

Klamin's body shimmered and shifted from a Shi'Odo to a human child. "It shouldn't take long. Me and uh…WICKED Heatrian are fast learners. Right, Hot-man?"

The Pyronite looked at Aedan. Lava suddenly exploded from his head as he warmed his rock-solid body so that he could speak. "WICKEDS learn at their own pace," he said slowly.

"It takes a standard day to get to Coruscant," Kay Lee said. "So it could be three days, or a week, or a month…"

"Or never," Minir hinted darkly.

The rest chose to ignore that comment.

* * * * *

Adriaan slammed the door to her room, glad to be rid of the obnoxious atmosphere in the kitchens. At dinner ––– which was soup and bread that night ––– Jahn Pal and Sai'wer had immediately spilled their portion of broth all over the just-cleaned countertop. Na'thin had told Minir to pick up the mess, Minir had punched Na'thin in the nose, Na'thin had pulled the other boy's hair and had scampered off, straight into Andora, who had been carrying more soup to the table. Na'thin had acted as though he had been thrown in hot oil, and Andre had called him a baby. Na'thin had gotten up and kicked Andre in the shins, causing the youth to spit his bread out into Aedan's face. The next thing everyone knew, the dinner table had turned into a war zone.

When everyone had calmed down, there wasn't much left on the table to eat. The Wicked Club immediately started to gnaw on each other's boots, but the teenagers and Andora had started to clear away the mess. That had turned out to be the worst part of the evening.

Andora, of course, had regained her composure quickly. She had been the only member at the table who had not taken part in the chaotic food fight. Adriaan knew that she was still stunned by the boys' behavior, but she would never complain in front of a Jedi Master, lest she show a weakness in her flawless nature. Kan had kept a sullen silence throughout the meal, and he did not speak to Adriaan the entire time, except to answer her questions in as few words as possible. When she had asked him about it, he had only shrugged and said, "I'm just tired. That's all." Adriaan couldn't figure it out. He had sounded fine during the battle, but perhaps that was just because the fight had distracted him from whatever was bugging him. Considering everything, he should be happy. Instead, he was being uncommunicative.

_Do you see what's happening, Adriaan? He's shutting himself out from you. He's becoming just like you…_

_ "I was alone; he is not."_

_ The Master sets the example for the Apprentice._

The only happy, communicative ones had been Kay Lee and Klamin. They hadn't seemed affected at all by the silence. They had sloshed happily away as they mopped the kitchen floor, laughing and joking and overall having a good time acting like teens. Seeing their joy had hurt her. She had never had time to be a teenager. She had been forced upon the threshold of adulthood before her time. She had never missed her childhood, until now. She had never allowed herself to wish for it, because it was something she knew she could not have. But now, watching them clown around, she could feel that something inside her was missing.

Adriaan knew what she was feeling was envy, and it wasn't fair to Klamin and Kay. After all, it wasn't their fault that she was a freak of nature. It wasn't their fault that her Master had been a criminal…

_Don't even think about it, Ree._

She closed her eyes, struggling to rid her insides of the twinge of jealousy. Suddenly, something escaped from deep within the recesses of her heart. A snatch of a vision, a scrap of her past –––

_She stood facing the moonrise and sunset, alone. _I am alone, _she thought to herself, _alone in the universe. Alone in the crowd.It is better that way. I am not afraid of being alone. I am not afraid of having no friends.

_Sadly, she was only lying to herself. She did not want to admit that she _was _afraid._

_Darc was standing in next of her, gazing at the horizon. As if hearing her thoughts, he turned and looked at her, his blue eyes the color of the moon in the cool of the evening. He moved a hand to place protectively on her shoulder. "You will no longer have to face things on your own," he said. "I will be here for you, no matter what."_

_ It was a promise a Master would give to his Apprentice. What a father would say to his son. A promise a friend would give to his friend. _

_ For the first time in five years, she felt something rise up from her heart, escaping from the prison she had created there. A sense of protection, relief, and happiness coursed through her veins. At that moment, her future did not look so entirely hopeless._

Her teeth clamped down on her tongue, painfully starting her out of her daydream. Adriaan swallowed and winced at the taste of blood. She remembered that day well; the day that she had made friends with the Apprentice Darc Chun-be. They had originally been rivals and hated each other's guts; she had thought he was too conceited and obsessed with his ego, and he had thought that she was a freak. It had taken a few years for them to see past their faults and finally come to terms with one another. It was one of the only good memories of Adriaan's childhood, but it was one of the most painful things to remember. Because thinking about it reminded her that Darc had eventually quit the Jedi Order, leaving her to stand alone. It reminded her that his promise had been empty, and the love she felt for him as a friend had all been in vain.

Kay Lee and Klamin had reminded her of this. Of having someone that you loved and would die for. Not the kind of love that a husband and wife would have for each other; that was different, and it was certainly good, but it was forbidden for a Jedi. Adriaan had loved Darc, but not in that way. She loved him more as a brother than anything else. Like Kay Lee and Klamin. Darc had been the only person able to open up Adriaan's heart in a way she had not felt possible. He had taught her to not be afraid to be herself, to act human. After he had left, she had never allowed herself to love anyone again. She had loved, and she had lost. There was no point in going through the same excruciating pain again.

Adriaan bit her lip as she threw herself face down on her bed. She had made her choice never to care for someone else. So why did she feel so unhappy?

_Labor calms a turbulent mind, young Padawan._

She wiped her face and rolled off the bed. She had better take the Jedi's good advice. She got down on her knees on the floor, shoving her hands underneath the bed. Her fingers encountered something coarse and bulky, and she drew it out from the darkness, coughing at the dust that had been disturbed.

She unwrapped her brown cloak, spilling the contents onto the floor. She squinted through the cloud of dust that arose from her cape as she sifted through her belongings: emergency kit, protein capsules, a few odd tools she kept handy in case her lightsaber malfunctioned, aquata breather…she frowned. Where was her liquid cable launcher?

_It probably just fell out when I pulled my cape out, _she thought, feeling with her hands underneath the bed. She didn't find it. Huffing irritably, she shoved her head beneath the bed, kicking at the floor with her feet so that her shoulders followed her head. Still no cable launcher. She slithered farther underneath, then groaned when she felt the cloth of her outer tunic snag on something. Oh well, she had an undertunic on underneath. She wriggled out of the jacket-like garment and pushed herself to the opposite end of the bed.

Just then her head hit on the sharp protruding end of the cable launcher. Stifling a curse, she pushed her back against the bed so that her hand could grab the item. She couldn't reach it, so she pressed her face against the object and gripped it with her teeth.

Now her biggest problem was getting back out. She twisted and turned and struggled, but only succeeded in wedging herself between the floor and the bedframe. After another brief struggle, she ended up on her back.

_You klutz, _she fumed, _now you're completely immobilized! _

Her legs kicked, but they couldn't get a grip on the floor. She craned her neck, but she couldn't find the end of the bed. It was an awkward position to be in, but in spite of herself, Adriaan laughed. _Just think of it; after all the traps I've escaped, I end up imprisoned underneath a _bed_! _She was laughing so hard that she nearly choked on a clump of loose mattress filling.

A pair of footsteps approached, then came to a stop near her. "Ree? Adriaan?" A muffled, masculine voice floated from above her head.

She began kicking again, hoping that the movement would joggle the bed. "I'm here!" she choked, sweat streaming down her face. It was becoming unbearably hot underneath the bed. A fit of sneezing overtook her.

Something dropped down near her feet. The voice was ground level now. "How did you end up under the bed?"

The atmosphere was thick and stifling by now from all the dust. "Never mind how I got in here! Pull me out! Grab my legs!" she croaked. The liquid cable had fallen out of her mouth by now, but she had managed to hold onto it by squeezing it to her body with her chin.

A pair of strong hands suddenly covered her ankles, and she was pulled out into blinding white light. She squinted at the glowlamp on the ceiling, blinking to get her eyes to adjust. A dark shape wavered in front of her. Klamin J'Oli's features blurred, then came into focus.

"Hello." Klamin's features became blurry again, as his skin shifted from the gray tones of a Shi'Odo to the furry form of a Wookiee. "Raw-roar-ahr-whar-mar," Wookiee-Klamin said.

"Yes, of course I can understand you. Roar-ahr-mawarr," Adriaan said, perfectly speaking in a Wookiee roar.

Klamin shifted from a Jawa to a Hutt to a human, then back to his regular 2.74 meter height. "Wow, you're good. You do a pretty believable imitation of a Wookiee, for a human being."

Adriaan pushed a lock of hair away from her face. "I wasn't imitating. I know the language. I said, 'don't scream; I can hear you.'"

"All right then: you don't have much of an accent when you speak Wookiee. Is that better, your Highness?"

"It's Adriaan. _Master _Adriaan," she said, adding emphasis to the word 'Master' Normally, she hated it when people addressed her as Master, but she felt that she needed to put this gigantic shapeshifter in his place.

Klamin grimaced. "I thought you insisted on being called 'Ree' It sounds so much better."

"Well, if you want to become a Jedi, you'd better get used to calling me 'Master'" Adriaan said.

"Kan calls you Ree –––"

"Kan is my Apprentice, and he respects me," Adriaan said sharply. "Whereas you act as if I am your equal. Anyway, everyone has to call me Master in front of the Jedi Council because they're touchy. They're very traditional, and they don't want rules being broken. So if you want to make a good impression, address all Jedi as 'Master'"

Klamin looked crestfallen at her abruptness. She felt a swift stab of guilt. After all, he had only been trying to make friends with her, like he did with Kay Lee. Only five minutes ago, she had wanted to be like them. Now she was rejecting the chance to become Klamin's friend.

_Aw, come on Adri, you don't need him, _a voice inside told her, _He's not going to make it. He's too old to become a Jedi. So what's the point of even trying, of wasting your time and your relationship with your own Apprentice for someone you don't even like?_

_"It's true that I don't need him. But he needs me. That is why I am helping him. I want to give him a fair shot. I am not going to leave him all alone, like I was."_

He looked down thoughtfully at her. Her face turned red; no doubt she looked a mess.

"Your epidermis is showing," he said finally.

Her body went cold for a second. Then she sat up, running her fingers through her tangled hair as dignifiedly as she could. Klamin was trying to get on her nerves. He probably thought she was too stupid to know that her epidermis was just her skin. She pulled her thermal tunic from under the bed and calmly shrugged her arms back into it. She began to place her belongings on top of her cloak.

"Did you hear what I said?"

"Yes." Adriaan pretended to be immensely interested in the shape of her aquata breather.

"Don't you care?"

This kid didn't know when to quit. She bundled her belongings inside her cloak and stood, looking around the room for her knapsack. "No."

He tried a different tack. "Do you know what epidermis is?"

"Epidermis |ˌepiˈdərmis| Noun. Biology. The outer layer of cells covering an organism, in particular. Zoology and Anatomy: the surface epithelium of the skin of an animal, overlying the dermis. Botany: the outer layer of tissue in a plant, except where it is replaced by periderm.

Derivatives are as follows…"

"Okay, okay." He followed her around the room as she started to pick up. This really got on her nerves. "I was just joking around."

"So was I."

He sat on the bed, watching her lift up the woven rug and shake it out, then replacing it on the floor. Adriaan really didn't care if the room was clean or not; she just needed something to do so that Klamin would get bored and just go away. She looked at her bed, taking in the rumpled sheets and lumpy mattress. "Move," Adriaan said to Klamin. "…please. Thank you."

"Sorry." He watched as she straightened the sheets and spread them smoothly on the bed. "Wow, how did you fit underneath that bed? It can't be more than five inches off the ground. Why were you down there, anyway?"

"Oh, I just happened to have a random impulse to explore under the bed," Adriaan said breezily, rolling her eyes.

"Hey, me too!" Klamin exclaimed. "I know exactly what you mean. It's just so mysterious down there. Of course, I never get stuck because all I have to do to get out is just shapeshift into something tiny…"

"I hope you realize that I was being sarcastic."

"Oh, you were? I had no idea –––"

"I hope you also realize," Adriaan said, as slowly and calmly as she could, "that you are seriously getting on my nerves."

"Oops, sorry. You know, you should really tell me when you are annoyed because I don't pay much attention to anyone else when I am talking –––"

"GET OUT!" Adriaan yelled.

She pushed him out, then slammed the door closed. She leaned against it, exhaling relievedly. At last, peace. Temporarily, at least. With eleven other Apprentices to take care of, she was sure to have a hectic schedule. _Man, oh man, _she thought, _I am not looking forward to becoming the Master of a class of idiotic, immature Apprentices. Well, I can't back down now. _

She laid down on her bed, planning on going to sleep. _Might as well take advantage of the present moment by catching a few hours of rest…_

A soft knock on the door caused her to sit bolt upright in bed. "What the…get the heck out of here, you space brat!" she yelled. "I'm not dealing with the likes of you anymore tonight!"

"Master Ree, it's me." Kan's voice came through the door.

Adriaan sighed. With how Kan was acting lately, she had a good idea that he had either come to complain, or argue.

"Come in," she said grumpily.

He slid through the door and stood in front of the bed. Adriaan whirled and sat facing him, her legs crossed, her hands folded in her lap. He was still in his full Jedi robes, and he had the appearance of one who had taken particular care in dressing himself. His hair was neatly combed, his face scrubbed, even his nails were clean. Adriaan was impressed. When she was his age, the Jedi Masters were lucky if they could persuade her to take a bacta bath every other week. In the mornings, she would just run a comb once through her hair, throw on whatever clothes were on hand, slip on her boots if she could find them, and she was ready to go.

"Well, what is it?" Adriaan said. "Why did you want to see me?"

"First, I need to know something," Kan said, looking very stern as he folded his arms across his chest. "What did Klamin want?"

"I kicked him out. He was annoying me."

"Yes, but what did he want?"

"A gazillion credits and power over the Tattooine system," Adriaan said, shrugging. "Honestly, Kan, I don't know. I think he just wanted to have a conversation with me."

"About what?"

"I dunno. I guess he just wants to be my friend. What's it to you?"

"Do you realize," Kan said slowly, "how much you are giving up to take this shapeshifter before the Jedi Council?"

"Don't forget Heatrian. I'm taking him, too. Kay Lee's not coming, but I'll speak to the Council about her."

"That's just it!" Kan yelled. "You don't care, do you? You're risking your position as a Jedi Knight, and wasting time babbling to the Jedi Council about these blasted little orphans that you think need your protection. Well, here's a breaking news report for you: they can take care of themselves. Why can't you stick to your own business?"

The words sounded so ugly coming from his mouth, but what shocked her was that she had been thinking the same thing less than two minutes ago. "Because my business is with them," Adriaan said. "I need to give them something I never had the privilege of: having someone to stand at their side."

"But when you put yourself at their side, you're leaving me all alone," Kan said.

"Now you're exaggerating. I'll always be there for you, even if I'm not with you physically."

"You know what I mean. You're taking off, leaving me to assail a CIS stronghold without any assistance whatsoever –––"

_ You've heard that before, haven't you, Ree? You felt the same way, didn't you, when Darc left…_

_Adriaan, be the Master, _she told herself sternly."Kan, there's nothing I can do about it. And you won't be entirely alone. There's Kay Lee and Urak, not to mention the Wicked Club. Anyway, I thought you wanted to become a Captain."

"I do, but that's not the point. The point is that you aren't listening to me!"

"Who's talking?"

"Are you asking for a piece of me?"

"No, I don't want a piece of you," Adriaan said calmly."I want you to keep yourself together. Violence isn't going to settle this."

"I wish it would," her Apprentice said angrily. "I wish I could punch someone in the face!"

"Well, if it will make you feel any better, go ahead," Adriaan said, "but don't come in here screaming at me. I haven't been ignoring you, and I haven't abandoned you. I'm giving you a chance to put your Jedi skills to work! All Padawans have to go through this stage. They can't have their Masters hovering over them all the time."

"I understand that," Kan said. "However, I don't agree."

"Ah, so you think that no one should grow up," Adriaan said. "So you think that someone always has to _be there _for you. Well, no one can stay forever Kan. We all have to die someday. You didn't blame your old Master for dying, so why you are throwing a tantrum about me _temporarily _leaving is beyond me –––"

To her horror, Kan's face suddenly crumpled, as if she had slapped him. She clapped a hand over her mouth. What had she said? Was it the mention of Ruru Xelan that made him upset?

"What did I say?" Adriaan asked. "Kan, I'm so sorry. I had forgotten that you would still feel pain over his death. I didn't know it would still hurt –––"

Kan leaped away from her, staggering toward the door. He turned and faced her, as if ready for her to attack. "Of course you don't know!" he screamed. "You're just a big nobody! You're like a rock; you don't feel anything! You don't care!"

He reeled like a drunken man, and raced out of the room, a ragged sob trailing behind him.

Adriaan pretended to herself that nothing had happened. She pretended that no one had been there. She kicked the sheets off the bed and lay down to sleep, but she found she could not rest. She slept fitfully on her bunk, her ears throbbing with her Apprentice's angry words.

_You don't feel anything, Adriaan. You're nothing but a chunk of rock. You don't care. You don't even have a heart. You just locked it up inside you, where no one can find it._ _You can't hate. You can't fear. _

_ You can't love._


	4. It Will Be a Hard Life

chapter 4

The day that Adriaan left was dark, wet, and cold. Of course, she wasn't really leaving until they had inspected the new troops coming in the assault ships from Coruscant, but there would be no time for private goodbyes there, with the whole clone crew looking on. There probably wouldn't be time for anything other than a formal, cold, Jedi-like farewell.

Kan was still very upset with Adriaan, though he couldn't pinpoint the exact reason why. He just had this feeling that Adriaan was seriously thinking of ditching him for another Apprentice. Klamin and Kay were definitely nominees for replacement Padawans. Perhaps that was why he felt this undercurrent of fear and anger inside him.

They were all going to come in their own starfighters. The Wicked Club had four ARC-170s to share amongst themselves, Kay Lee was flying her own beat-up craft, and Klamin was piloting his personally outfitted Jedi starfighter. Where he had picked up a ship like that, he would not say, but no one could help being impressed by the adaptations he had made to the original design tested by Jedi Master Adi Gallia. First, it had a spring-activated socket for a full-bodied astromech droid to occupy, unlike the astromech head that was wired into the original Delta-7. Also, it was smaller and had a more compact design than the original, and was complete with the latest combat technology.

Kan looked with longing at Klamin's impressive fighter, then looked at Adriaan's dull gray four-passenger cruiser; she had left her own black and silver _ShadowFalcon _at the Jedi Temple. He wrinkled his nose in distaste. Compared to the sleek designs of Klamin's red starfighter, the cruiser looked like a piece of junk. Adriaan obviously had not been paying much attention when she had borrowed the cruiser, otherwise she would have picked something much more sophisticated.

Kan sat in the dingy, oil-stained chair that was the copilot seat and strapped himself in. Adriaan took her place silently at the controls. She started the preflight check, while Kan punched in the coordinates for the orbiting assault ships. Minutes ticked by. Neither of them spoke.

The preflight check was conducted successfully, and Adriaan gunned the engines and eased the ship out of the hangar. Adriaan could make even the clumsiest craft fly as gracefully as a space angel. She still had not spoken, and Kan did not wonder why. She was confused; she couldn't understand him. She couldn't relate to his sufferings. She was, as Kan had put it, a rock. Bored, Kan took out a booklet called _The Complete Guide to Rebuilding Your Sublight Engine. _It had been lying on the console, and it looked dull and uninteresting, with detailed prints that went with the excessively verbose instructions on how to build a sublight engine. Kan could barely read the miniscule print, and what he could read made his brain backfire, but it was better than looking like he had nothing to do.

"Studying?" Adriaan's eyes were still glued to the navscreen, but she had spoken to him.

Kan thumbed through the book listlessly, trying to look like he wasn't bored. He nodded.

They didn't say anything the rest of the blessedly short trip. Kan was relieved when their lumbering craft finally landed in the hangar bay of the _Shooting Star, _one of the six Republic assault ships that had arrived. Six was a staggering amount of assault cruisers to send to such a small system ––– three weeks ago, when they had attacked the CIS on Zylxx, they had only had half that amount of ships.

Adriaan slung her small survival pack over her shoulder, unstrapping herself and standing up simultaneously. Kan threw the book back on the console and stood up also, fingering the straps of his much larger backpack. Obviously, Adriaan did not need as much as Kan did to survive. Adriaan retightened the straps on her brown boots and straightened, looking at Kan for the first time that day. Kan pretended not to notice her unnerving stare as he pressed the button that let down the ramp. Adriaan drew in a deep breath and opened her mouth once, then closed it. She still did not say anything more to him. Perhaps she didn't know what to say.

_Say you're sorry. Say you won't take Klamin or Kay Lee as your Apprentice. Say that you are proud of me. Say you want me as your Padawan more than anyone else in the galaxy._

She strode down the ramp with a purposeful attitude. Kan followed with his own dejected walk. They had been the last ones to land, so everyone was waiting impatiently below.

"What took you so long?" Kay Lee teased.

"Did you fall asleep at the WICKED controls?" Na'thin joked.

"Did vulture droids try to make you GOODLY croak?" Terry said.

"Did asteroids blast your ship to GOOD old smithereens?" Kien asked.

"Asteroids don't blast, WICKED Kien; they WICKEDLY smash," Heatrian contradicted.

"Furthermore, if their ship was in smithereens they wouldn't even be here," Andora pointed out.

"GOOD," Minir muttered.

"_Our _ship got blasted by asteroids," Jahn Pal said importantly.

"Smashed," Heatrian corrected.

"No, _BLASTED,_" Sai'wer said. "Because we went out like _SMASH! BANG! BOOM!_"

"Then why are you still here?" Heatrian asked.

The cousins frowned, scratching their heads. Sai'wer snorted and stuck a finger up his nose, fishing out a gigantic booger. Jahn Pal promptly grabbed greenish-brown glob from Sai'wer's hand and crammed it into his mouth. Andora gagged.

"Good question," Jahn Pal said finally.

"We don't know," Sai'wer giggled.

"I'm hungry," Andre complained. "Where's the food?"

"Yeah, GOOD!" all the Wicked Club yelled, except for Heatrian, who did not eat "man-food"

Adriaan plugged her ears. "Are you sure you want to do this?" she asked Kay Lee.

_She never asked _ME_ if this was what I wanted, _Kan thought angrily.

Kay Lee gritted her teeth, looking at the Wicked Club, then at Adriaan. "Yes, Commander."

"You're crazy," Adriaan said. "I've been the only Jedi able to put up with their antics. You won't last two weeks with them."

"We'll just see," Kay Lee answered.

"Actually, I'll bet that it'll be the _Wicked Club_ that will be begging you to come back, Adri," Klamin said. "Kay won't lose ground with these vagabonds."

Kan winced at how Klamin addressed his Master. _Adri, _like she was a friend of his. _At least my name can't be shortened, _Kan thought gratefully.

"Hey, vertically challenged kid, think you can put up with the Wicked Club for a week?" Kan started; Klamin was looking at him. _Did he just call me _vertically challenged? _I'm tall for my age!_

It occurred to him that perhaps to a two and a half meter tall Shi'Odo, he _was _vertically challenged. Notwithstanding, he still wasn't going to let anyone, even a giant alien, get away with calling him that.

He drew himself to his full one and a half meters and looked Klamin in the face. "Actually, I've already proven that I can deal with the Wicked Club," he said as politely as he could. "I was present with them at the battle on Geonosis. By the way, if I am really as short as you seem to make me be, then you are a gigantic, mutant, obese Hutt."

Instead of making the Shi'Odo angry, as he had secretly hoped, Klamin burst out laughing. "Hah hah! Very funny!" Klamin said. "Well, kid, if that's the way you look at it, you can call me vertically _un_challenged."

"Very amusing," Adriaan interrupted. "Sorry to cut the social time short, but we've got to get a move on here. We can't leave any later than this evening, so I suggest that we go down to the command bridge and observe the new troops. Then we have to leave. And Kan, don't get so offended about being called vertically challenged; there are worse insults than that."

"Like GOOD," Aedan said.

"Or girly-man," Minir added.

"Right," Adriaan said. "Now get out of my way or get out of my sight! You all don't have to follow me when I inspect the troops, but I will expect you all at the command bridge in two hours, when I am through briefing the clone commander. In the meantime, you can do whatever you like…" she caught the sudden mischievous glances the boys gave each other. "…within reason," she finished.

"Being WICKED is reasonably unreasonable," Aedan said.

"You are going to behave –––"

"––– WICKEDLY. GOOD-bye!"

Within the blink of an eye, everyone except the nonmembers of the Wicked Club had disappeared. Kay Lee excused herself, saying that she had better grab something to eat while she had the chance. Klamin looked like he had no business elsewhere, and Kan could tell this annoyed Adriaan. He was beginning to read how she felt by the expression in her eyes; they changed shades of blue according to emotion. Right now, her pupils were dilated and her eyes were a bright and fiery, like round bolts of lightning. Clearly angry.

Adriaan looked at Kan; Kan looked at her. Neither of them said anything. Kan was still mad at her, and he felt misunderstood. She was just sitting back, waiting for him to…what? He didn't understand what she wanted him to do.

"I'd better get some rest," Kan murmured.

His Master's face was tense, as if she were trying to hide her disappointment. Then she nodded. Kan bowed and left to find get some sleep he did not want.

* * * * *

When they met at the command bridge two hours later, everyone looked like they were attending a funeral. Jahn Pal and Sai'wer bawled and clung to Heatrian, then they screamed even louder as they let go, for his hot skin had burned their hands. Minir's only comfort for the cousins was that they should be happy their hands didn't melt.

Andre was babbling something to Heatrian about where to find the best food at the Jedi Temple, but the Pyronite didn't look like he was listening. Aedan clapped his newest club member on the back, then stuck his burning hand into his mouth to cool it. Terry, Na'thin, and Kien were wise enough to refrain from touching Heatrian.

Kay Lee and Klamin shook hands and bowed. Adriaan was standing off to the side, not joining the group. When Kay Lee approached her to say goodbye, Adriaan stuck out her hand. Kay Lee ignored the gesture and embraced her friend instead. Kan had never seen his Master look so stiff before. Her attitude was cold, like she was a stranger to them all.

_She IS a stranger. I don't know her. I never will. She's nothing but a statue: cold, hard, unyielding, unmoving…_

Heatrian came up from behind Kan, startling him from his brooding. He forced his frozen lips to smile at the Pyronite as he took Heatrian's cooled, rock-hard hand. The Pyronite didn't say anything; it was hard for him to speak when his body was hardened into a solid shape. The small gesture touched Kan. Heatrian had cooled himself so that he would not burn him. Kan had been one of the first to meet Heatrian. The Pyronite had been responsible for taking care of Kan during his illness. They would have been close friends, if Heatrian had not had the misfortune of meeting members of Aedan's band first. By the time Kan had met the Pyronite, Heatrian had been ruined by the WICKED influence of Terry and Na'thin.

"Goodbye, kid," Klamin said boisterously, tousling Kan's carefully groomed hair. "Don't let the Wicked Club beat you, okay, man?"

"Don't let the Council crush you," Kan answered, smiling through clenched teeth.

"Right. Well, that's what Adriaan's gonna be there for. She won't let them beat me and Hot-man up."

Luckily, Adriaan did not hear his comment, for she was talking to both Kay Lee and the commanding clone of the new troops. Kay Lee nodded her head from time to time, but Kan could tell by the look on her face that she didn't understand a word Adriaan was saying. It was going to be a long week.

The clone saluted and marched away, and Kay Lee looked relieved that the briefing was over. Andora had said her goodbyes to everyone and was beginning to look bored. Klamin and Adriaan were ready to leave, but Heatrian was still surrounded by a mob of devastated boys. The Wicked Club was not used to having its members separated. The boys had stuck together through thick and thin, so it was hard on them to say goodbye to each other. Even Minir looked upset because Heatrian had to leave. Kay Lee and Adriaan exchanged looks of exasperation.

Finally, Klamin threw himself into the roiling mass and somehow separated Heatrian from his friends. "All right, WICKEDS," he said, shapeshifting into a human boy and imitating Aedan's voice perfectly. "GOOD-byes are for GOODS."

"We know, GOOD," Andre said. "But why does WICKED Heatrian have to leave?"

"Yeah!" screamed the boys.

"Because, WICKEDS," Klamin said, shifting to a Twi'lek, his voice deepening as his body lengthened and grew taller, "if Heatrian does not WICKEDLY present himself before the Council, Heatrian cannot WICKEDLY live at the Temple with the rest of the WICKEDS."

Aedan set his jaw stubbornly. "_**I **_would WICKEDLY allow him to live at the Temple, with or without those wrinkly, fat, old GOODS."

"That is not your decision," Adriaan said sharply. "Those fat, wrinkly old goods would only throw him out."

"We would WICKEDLY stop them!" the Wicked Club shouted heroically.

"You wouldn't have to stop them at all if Heatrian became a WICKED Jedi Padawan," Klamin pointed out.

"He's got a point, WICKEDS," Heatrian said. "Anyway, while I'm there, I can WICKEDLY pick up anything you guys forgot to bring with you."

The Wicked Club's faces lit up. "Bring me my baby WICKED krayt lizard," Aedan said. "He's probably finished off that dead Rodian I gave him three weeks ago."

"You fed him a Rodian? That's murder!" Kay Lee exclaimed.

"Not if he had already croaked when he got into a brawl in a GOOD old cantina," Aedan said. "The bartender gave the body to me for half-price, but only because it was starting to GOODLY rot."

"That's disgusting," Kay Lee shuddered.

"He doesn't know what he's talking about," Adriaan whispered. "I happened to see the dead 'Rodian' It was only an old worrt frog that the bartender had bought for a stew. Aedan obviously needs to pay more attention during his biology classes."

"I'll say," Kay Lee answered.

"Bring me some hologames," Terry said.

"Like the new Podracing game they just came out with," Kien said. "I heard that in the newest WICKED version, you can make your podracer run over Tusken Raiders."

"WICKED!" Na'thin screamed. "Oh, yeah, and bring _Cantina Brawl. _It's the WICKEDEST game ever."

"Don't forget _Galactic Bowl CX,_" Andre added. "That's my favorite game."

"Just bring me my earplugs. I forgot to take them with me," Minir grumbled.

"I want my blankie," Jahn Pal said.

"Me, too," Sai'wer agreed.

Heatrian was beginning to look overwhelmed. "Okay, WICKEDS, I'll try to get all the stuff," he said. "See ya, WICKEDS!"

"WICKED-bye!" they all yelled after him.

"Do I get a WICKED-bye, too?" Klamin asked, changing back to a Shi'Odo.

"No!" they all screamed.

Adriaan started toward her old, battered star cruiser, while Heatrian clambered into Klamin's Jedi starfighter. "It's my turn to fly the WICKED starfighter," he said to Klamin. "You can ride in the piece of junk."

"But it's _my_ starfighter!" Klamin said.

"Yeah, but I was the one who welded the parts together. Half the lava in my body went into the making of this WICKED thing, so it's mostly mine."

Klamin sighed. "All right, but wear that those heat-resistant clothes I gave you, and don't spit lava all over the controls, either! If he flies without something covering his skin, he sets the whole ship on fire," he whispered to the others.

"Gotcha," Adriaan murmured.

As she walked up the ramp to the cruiser, Kan felt his heart sink. She had said goodbye to everyone but him, but should she be expected to? He knew that she was angry at him for being so ungrateful. Every step she took up that ramp seemed to take her farther and farther away from Kan. If she walked away without looking back, she would be shutting herself away from Kan. There would be a wall between them, a gate that would always be closed.

_Adriaan, look back, please look back. Look back, before you go. Before you leave me. _

As if answering his prayer, she hesitated at the top of the ramp. The proud stiffness in her shoulders relaxed the tiniest bit.

Then she turned. Looked at him. The closing door remained open.

"_It will be a hard life._

_One without Reward_

_Without Remorse._

_Without Regret._

_A Path will be placed before You._

_The choice is Yours alone._

_Do what you think you cannot do._

_It will be a hard life._

_But you will find out who you are."_

Adriaan's mouth had moved to the words of the ancient Jedi saying, but it was not her voice that spoke. Kan felt his heart rise to the sound of that powerful, yet gentle voice, and he lifted his head higher at the command of those words. He looked at his Master, so young, so human, standing alone at the top of the ramp, and a brief glimmer of understanding flashed between them. The last words flickered and echoed throughout the space, filling his ears and his mind and his heart.

Adriaan nodded at him, the ice melting slightly in her face. Then the moment was gone. She turned and followed Klamin up the ramp.

The Padawans watched in silence as the ship coughed to life and began to rise. Behind the dark panels of the cockpit window, Kan could see Adriaan's eyes looking at him. He raised his hand, and she raised hers in a brief farewell. Then the ship rose too high for him to see her anymore.

The craft zoomed out of the hangar, dwindling till it was a small gray speck against a dark black sky. There was a small flash as it prepared to enter hyperspace, then a streak of silver light glimmering against the empty hole that was space.

Kan drew his hand across his eyes to keep the tears from falling. He had been forgiven. They were still Master and Apprentice. They were still a team.

_May the Force be with you, _he said silently.


	5. A Very Annoying Trip

chapter 5

_ Run. Run. Lungs expand; take in air. Exhale. It's called breathing. Do it. Do it. Breathe._

_ Get away. I have to get away from the…I have to get…I have to get away…get away from _him. _Get away. Get away. Run. I can't breathe. Lungs screaming for air. Can't stop to breathe. Can't breathe…_

"…and then he had me attach a tonfa handle to my blade when he realized that I was getting bored with the same old drills day after day," Klamin said, unclipping his lightsaber from his utility belt for her to look at. "At first, I didn't have a crystal for my blade because Falcon didn't want me to cut off my arm while I was practicing, but I got the hang of it."

"I've heard that the tonfa lightsaber is one of the hardest to use effectively," Adriaan said after a brief pause.

The Shi'Odo seemed pleased to have captured an audience, which was a reluctant one at best. "Yeah, it is," he admitted. "I still mess up from time to time. One time I almost cut off my index finger, but I shapeshifted into a bantha just in time. It just sliced my fur. Eventually, though, I mastered the technique. I also like it better than the basic handle because it's better for undercover fighting."

"What do you mean?"

Klamin leaned forward confidentially. "You see, I couldn't use my lightsaber in public, because it would attract too much attention. I had to wait for a Jedi to come before I could finally reveal myself. Times are dangerous."

Adriaan nodded. She knew all too well how many bounty hunters and mercenaries thought they could rake in money from the fabled Jedi treasury by kidnapping Padawans. She had been captured and sold as a slave herself. The only problem was that her captors got angry when they found out what the Jedi Temple was really filled with: not credits, but a vast store of knowledge and learning. Something bounty hunters did not care for. "Wait a second, how does a tonfa blade make you look inconspicuous?"

He tossed her his lightsaber hilt. She turned it over, admiring the expensive black chrome and running her hand along its textured surface. It looked much like her own lightsaber, except at the end, there was a small cylindrical projection, similar to the handle of a blaster. A Jedi using a tonfa blade would grip the saber with the projecting end, making it easier to rotate the saber. It also made it easier to cut off limbs that happened to be in the lightsaber's path, be it the hand of an opponent or the actual user of the blade.

"You see? I refitted the handle to make it look like a sporting blaster. It can even fire like a real blaster. The firing mechanism is disabled when I press the red button on the side."

Adriaan was pretty impressed with his handiwork. It looked both like and unlike a blaster, and it made a unique-looking lightsaber. She handed the weapon back to Klamin. "It's beautiful. By the way, where did you get the crystal? I think you'd better show this to the Council. They'll definitely want to see this."

"Falcon gave me the crystal from his old lightsaber. He told me it is a very rare kind, and that I should take care of it."

"He was right. No one in the Jedi Temple has a clear lightsaber blade."

"Well, I hope I'll fit in okay. Do you have many Shi'Odo's there?"

She shook her head. "No, not that I know of. We have a few Clawdites, though. I hadn't even heard of your species until last week. Nevertheless, I shouldn't worry about not fitting in. There are many rare species at the Jedi Temple. In fact, one of the greatest Jedi we have is an unknown species. Master Yoda. He's less than a meter tall."

He whistled. "Sweet. Can I meet this Master Yoda? I want to take a look at him so I can learn how to take on his shape. Shi'Odo's have to study the body of a species before they attempt to use that particular form, or they will not know how to use the shape their body has taken," he said informatively.

"Mm-hm." Adriaan wondered why she always had to stifle the temptation to yawn whenever Klamin launched one of his explanations about Shi'Odo behavior. Klamin was nice and all, but he was sort of annoying. She liked him better before she had known he was a Force-sensitive shapeshifter, when he had been pretending to be a Zylxxian.

She stood up and began walking toward the pantry. She wasn't hungry, but she wanted an excuse to get away. Klamin got up also and followed her. "Hey, get me something, too?"

Adriaan groaned. No matter what species Klamin shapeshifted into, he always ended up with the same ravenous appetite. "What do you want?"

"Muja muffins and Oopee seakiller soup with hot cuji spice, and a glass of A'jula fruit juice."

"I'm not a gourmet chef, and this isn't a fast-food restaurant," Adriaan said indignantly.

"You could've fooled me." Klamin leaned back in his chair, folding his arms behind his head as he propped his feet on the console.

Adriaan stared at him for several minutes. Then she stormed off to the lounge area.

"Hey, I thought you were making dinner tonight," Klamin called from the cockpit.

"Jedi don't need three meals a day. We can survive on that much for a week!" Adriaan shouted back, throwing herself on a sleep couch.

Klamin came walking in, blocking the light from the doorway with his huge body. Adriaan closed her eyes to shut out the sight of him, then opened them again. He was still there.

"Did I make you mad? Why are you mad?" he was asking.

"I'm not mad. I just want to go to sleep."

"But you also told me once that Jedi don't need sleep every night, and you slept last night, so ––––"

"This is hyperspace. There is no night, or day. There is no time in hyperspace. I need sleep. I need rest. I'll be working nonstop once we land on Coruscant."

"What will I be doing?"

"Tests. Now go away."

"Won't you teach me some things before we go before the Council? Do you really think me and Heatrian will fit in?"

"No. It is better to rest. You will have plenty of time to work at the Temple. Yes, of course you and Heatrian will fit in. Only the dark Force adepts don't fit in."

There was a moment of silence. Then, gently, "You are a dark Force adept, aren't you?"

She turned away so that he couldn't see the expression on her face. She opened her right hand, where the tattoo burned in her palm, running down her wrist like a black river. "Not really. It's none of your business."

"Why not?"

She sat up and faced him. "Because I hardly know you and you aren't my friend. Because I don't trust you. Because I don't want to talk to you. I'm only taking you to the Council because I feel that you and Heatrian need to be given a chance. I'll stand by you and make sure you get through, but that's all you can expect from me. Now go away and leave me alone."

He looked at her for a moment in silence. Then, quietly, he left the room. Adriaan could hear him whistling tunelessly as he threw himself in the copilot chair and began looking at the ship's log. She felt a little bad about having been so rude to him, but she was glad to be left alone. She hadn't slept at all last night, or the night before that, for that matter, so it wasn't long before she fell asleep. Yet even in the unconsciousness of her sleep, she couldn't find rest. When she was not awake, she no longer had any self-control over what she feared and remembered. Sleep was the time when the visions she had stored deep within her heart surfaced to the light.

_Run. Get away. Can't stop to breathe. Can't stop now…_

_ As she ran, something filmed over her eyes. Her lungs were screaming, crying in agony, but she did not have the presence of mind to pump oxygen into her body as she fled. She was not going to stop; she was going to run until she fell down dead._

_ She bumped into something large and soft and warm. Her feet skidded to a stop on the pavement, and she turned blindly to run in the opposite direction. No. He had caught her. She must get away…_

_ Strong hands grabbed her shoulders and stopped her legs in mid-sprint. "Ree? What's the matter?"_

_ Her lungs expanded and took in great gulps of air. The pain made her gasp aloud, and the tears that had been in her eyes splattered into the dirt so that it became mud. At that moment, everything became clear, and she could see that the person who had stopped her was only Darc Chun-be, an Apprentice that had belonged to the Colo Clawfish Clan, which had also been her youngling clan. Her shoulders sagged with relief. "Darc. I didn't know it was you," she said as her breath returned._

_ "You're wounded, _Sahri." Sahri. _The Coruscanti word for "friend." She had thought she had no friends._

_ His fingers gently explored the whip welts on her arms. She shrugged his touch off and hastily tried to cover the bloody marks. "It's nothing," she said._

_ "Someone has hurt you." He sounded angry. "Who did this?"_

_ She could not tell him this. It was forbidden; _He_ would kill her if _He _found out._

_ "I can't; I can't!" she said wildly. Her knees suddenly gave out, and she would have fallen if Darc had not caught her and hauled her to her feet. He placed his hand on her shoulder protectively. Feeling the pressure on her arm, she felt something relax inside her, and her legs began to feel steadier._

_ Suddenly she didn't care if _He_ killed her. Suddenly, she no longer cared what happened if she told. She didn't even care if Darc believed her or not. She could no longer keep this secret locked up inside her._

_ She straightened. Looked Darc in the eyes. At first, she was startled. His pupils were large and dark, surrounded by a thin strip of sky blue. Strange eyes. Like hers, except lighter. It scared her because she realized that she hadn't looked directly at someone in so long, she had forgotten what a human face looked like. She was afraid, afraid to face anyone, crouching, hiding in the dark…_

_ "It was my Master," she said._


	6. Day One of The Kiyp Belt Invasion

chapter 6

"Attention all pilots. Prepare your ships for battle."

Kan fell out of bed and felt blindly for his boots, which he had kicked underneath his bed last night. He slipped them onto his feet, simultaneously grabbing a comb from his survival pack and yanking it painfully through his unruly hair. Through the walls, he could hear members of the Wicked Club also awake, crashing into walls and twirling lightsabers around, screaming wildly. It sounded like a murder was taking place in the adjoining rooms.

"Repeat: Attention all pilots. Prepare for battle," the ship's loudspeaker shrieked.

There was a hesitant knock on the door. Kan gave up trying to comb his hair and went to see who it was.

"Advance. Commander Lee says there is not much time left," Andora said.

His mind still bleary from sleep, Kan wondered why everyone was so rushed this morning. Then he remembered. Adriaan leaving. The war conference immediately following. This was the day the invasion of the Kiyp Belt would begin.

He stepped out into a hallway filled with chaos. Clone pilots rushed back and forth, dodging lines of regular infantry. Jahn Pal and Sai'wer were huddled against the wall, bawling.

"Boohoo!" they wailed.

"Oh, for heaven's sake, what is it now?" Andora asked them.

"We want our mommy!" wailed Jahn Pal.

"Who?"

"Mommy Minir!" Sai'wer yelled. "Where are you? Where is Jahn Pal? Where is _me_? Do you know, Jahn Pal?"

"We are lost," Jahn Pal informed his cousin.

The two immediately began to cry again.

"Nonsense," Andora said, "you are not astray. You are in the hold of the _Shooting Star, _a Republic assault ship. You have no cause for agitation. Observe; Minir approaches us now."

A grumpy-looking boy stumbled out the doorway. His eyelids were puffed and tired-looking. He glared at the crying boys. "Shut up, you little baby GOODS."

"Mommy Minir! You're alive!" Jahn Pal screamed.

"Of course, you idiot, why wouldn't I be?"

"We were afraid the Andora-monster had eaten you," Sai'wer whispered.

"Rubbish!" shouted Andora. "You evil, wicked, diminutive boys –––"

"WICKED is right!" her blond-haired, dirty twin popped through the door. "Yo, WICKEDS! Ready to kick some battle droid butts today?"

"_Aedan!_" Andora looked shocked. "How dare you exercise such, such…" she grasped for the right word. "…_obscene _vocabulary!"

Aedan looked at her and shrugged. "Don't worry, GOOD little sister, we'll wear tough bantha-hide boots so the metal won't hurt our feet."

She stepped menacingly toward him. "Why you malificent, miniscule ––––"

"WICKED!" The rest of the Wicked Club burst through the door and surrounded their leader protectively. "Get away, GOOD one!"

"You know, I am not cognizant of how being 'good' is an insult," Andora said. "I am proud to be under the appellation 'Good One'"

"Shame! GOODNESS!" screamed the Wicked Club.

Just then, the comm unit screeched above them, startling them into silence. Jahn Pal and Sai'wer screamed at the noise and covered their ears, but the others waited calmly for the message to come.

"Captain Enik, report to the command bridge immediately." The person speaking was Kay Lee. "Repeat: KAN ENIK REPORT TO THE COMMAND BRIDGE."

"All right all right, I'm coming," Kan said, stepping into the crowd of clones.

"Wicked Club members, report to Captain Enik after the mission briefing," Kay Lee continued.

"WICKED!" they screamed.

The loudspeaker gave one last piercing shriek before it was turned off.

Aedan looked pleased. "Hey, WICKEDS, guess what?" he said. "We're famous. Our club was actually _mentioned _on a loudspeaker!"

"WICKED!" the others yelled. "Soon the whole GOOD galaxy will know and fear our WICKEDNESS!"

"Oh, good grief," Kan said.

"She didn't divulge my mission objective," Andora complained.

"Maybe she just forgot about you," Minir murmured.

"How dare you!" Andora screamed. "Who could possibly forget _me_?"

"Maybe she assumed Andora was part of the Wicked Club," Kan suggested.

Panicky looks crossed the boys faces. "GOOD! NO!"

"Never!"

"Andora stinks!"

"She's GOOD!"

"She's not ugly like us!" Andre added.

Andora stared. "How is being designated as attractive unfavorable?"

"How is being designated as attractive _GOOD_," Terry corrected.

"Attractiveness is GOOD," Aedan said importantly. "The guy on the Holonet said so."

Kan rolled his eyes. "You and your ideas. Come on, Andora, you can come with me."

"GOOD riddance," Aedan called.

"And don't come back," Minir added.

* * * * *

Aedan yanked the controls from side to side, testing his ARC-170 starfighter. The ship ducked and rolled erratically, and Aedan let out a whoop of triumph. Yep; the ship was definitely WICKED.

"Yo, WICKEDS, have you tested your WICKED ships?" Aedan yelled into the ship's comm system.

"Affirmative, WICKED."

"Roger, WICK-King."

"This baby ain't gonna croak, WICKED."

"Mine's not GOOD."

"Flies like a bantha," Minir griped.

"Um, Queen Aedan?" Jahn Pal's voice popped into the frequency. "How do I fly this thing?"

"And what will happen if I press the button that is labeled: _Warning: press to eject from cockpit_?" Sai'wer asked innocently.

"GOOD," Aedan murmured.

"Did you say, 'go ahead'?"

"NO!" Aedan shouted. "Whatever you moronic babies do, don't press that button!"

"Yes, ma'am."

Aedan's eyes narrowed. "Who just called me 'ma'am'?"

"I did, WICKED," Jahn Pal said.

"GOOD! Expellation! May the Tusken Raiders on Tattooine chop you into a gazillion pieces and serve your bones to their pet massiffs!" Aedan screamed.

"No, no!" Sai'wer bawled. "Don't chop up Jahn Pal! He's essential to the club!"

"In what way?" was Minir's calm rejoinder.

"All right, boys," Kay Lee's tired voice came over the speaker. "Cut the talking; we're about to run into the CIS fleet. Just follow your Captain. He knows what to do."

"He sure does," Andre said, referring to the captain of the Wicked Club.

"I meant Captain Enik."

"GOOD!"

"Wickeds," Kan said. "Approach coordinates 616, 2541, copy."

Aedan squinted at his navigation screen. Big patches of red suddenly covered the blank screen. "Whoa, that's pretty WICKED," Aedan murmured.

"It's the CIS! Make 'em croak!" Terry yelled.

"Cease your imprudence," Andora said. "We are about to partake in belligerent actions, not a festivity for your personal amusement. Captain, I suggest that you inform your charges of their directive before they purloin your prerogative."

"Copy. Blue Leader, standing by. Blue Group, set craft in attack formation."

"WICKED!" the Wicked Club screamed.

"Craft in attack formation, sir," Andora said over the boys' screams.

"Blue Leader, vultures are bearing down on you from coordinates 757, 9198…" Kay Lee said.

Aedan followed Kan's craft, pitched his ship to a hard right so that he was facing the oncoming droid fighters. His minions and Andora did similar maneuvers so that they were all heading in the same direction.

He looked out his cockpit window and saw long, blackish-gray shapes silhouetted against the silvery outline of an asteroid in the Kiyp Belt. Black specks floating around the CIS assault ships were flying toward him.

"WICKED!" Aedan screamed as red bolts suddenly shattered through the black space. His craft ducked and rolled, dodging the laser bolts. He had never been in a space battle before, and it was WICKEDLY terrifying. He could tell that the other club members thought the same, for they were all yelling and whooping along with him.

"Boo-yah! I just shot down a GOOD!"

"No, you UNWICKED, that was _my _kill."

"No, it was mine and Sai'wer's," Sai'wer said. "Oh, wait; am I Sai'wer or Jahn Pal?"

"Rubbish. You didn't provoke the late opponent's demise. It was I."

Aedan rolled his eyes. As usual, his twin had to take credit for everything.

"Sai'wer! Stop shooting me, you imbecile!" Minir cut in.

"That's not me, that's Jahn Pal," Sai'wer whined.

"Make fireworks!" Jahn Pal laughed. "Kill sweet, nice wittle Minir!"

"Aedan! Terry! WICKEDS! Help me!" Minir begged, the usual surliness in his tone replaced by terror.

"You GOOD," Terry said, "he's not even hitting you. Too dumb."

"I'll help you, Minir!" Kay Lee yelled, breaking out of formation.

"No, Commander Lee, stay with your troops!" Andora cried. "I will come to the aid of the distressed."

"I'm not distressed! I'm WICKED!" Minir shrieked.

"Minir! Take Action 612 919WICKED!" Aedan broke in as trifighters bore down on Minir's ARC-170.

"Ai-i-i-eeeee!!!" There was a brief flash of fire as Minir's ship was hit by the incoming laser fire.

"He's going down!" Kan said.

"He's croaking!" Andre shouted in disbelief.

"His demise is incontrovertible," Andora said.

"No, mommy Minir can't die!" Sai'wer cried.

"Boohoo! Who will be our mommy now?" Jahn Pal asked.

"I guess it will just have to be our sisters, Kien and Andre…"

"Last time I checked, Kien and Andre are males that have no distinct relation to idiots such as you." Minir's voice sounded a little weak and shaky through the static, but it was audible.

"Minir! You're alive!" Terry screamed.

"Amazing!" Na'thin shouted.

"WICKED!" Aedan added.

"Oh, it is good that you are still alive, dear mommy," Jahn Pal said.

"I am astounded that you have exhibited an uncharacteristic WICKED fondness for me, though I must admit that I am not honored by your GOOD affection."

"Oh, do not worry, dear Minir," Sai'wer said. "We are not fond of you; we just wanted to make sure you would be able to attend your funeral."

For several minutes, the only sound heard was the Wicked Club's stifled sniggers. Aedan thought he heard even his prim little sister giggling under her breath. What idiots, to think that an alive and well Minir would attend his own funeral.

A group of trifighters suddenly filled the black space outside his cockpit bubble. Aedan fired a few laser blasts at them, then targeted the closest fighter and launched a missile. The opponent burst into a fiery bloom of red flame, taking out another fighter with the blast. Aedan whooped and hollered, turning his ship over and flying upside down. He ignored the fact that in space, nothing was upside down.

"There's too many of them! They're all over me!" a clone yelled.

"GOOD!" the Wicked Club yelled. They disapproved of the expression "there's too many of them" There were never too many enemies for the WICKEDS to deal with. Aedan was not surprised when the clone's ARC-170 spun out of control as its wing was clipped by starfire. It twirled around lazily, then disappeared in a puff of smoke and fire.

"So much for that GOOD," Minir said.

"Minir!" Kan said, obviously shocked at the WICKED comment. "That was completely unnecessary."

"We request that you refrain from such indecent comments," Andora agreed. "All of you."

"No. We will be WICKED!" the Wicked Club yelled.

"Well, Minir, if that's how you feel about a clone, I wonder how you'd feel if it was _Aedan _in that ship." This time, it was Kay Lee who was deciding to admonish them. Insolent GOOD. Certainly _he, _the King of all WICKEDNESS, would not meet such an unfortunate end. Aedan expected Minir to say so. Instead, Minir's reply shocked him.

"Actually, I wouldn't mind that much if GOOD old Aedan croaked."

There was a stunned silence. Aedan felt blood rush up to his ears, and he held in his breath for as long as he could.

"Traitor! GOODNESS!" Aedan screamed, jamming hard on the controls as he yanked his craft so that it was facing Minir. He released several missiles at Minir's ARC-170.

"Hey, Aedan! That's friendly fire!" Kan yelled.

"Not friendly! GOOD!" Aedan shrieked, ruthlessly firing at Minir. The missiles overshot, and exploded into two vulture droids instead. Aedan was so mad he couldn't keep a steady hand at the controls; as a result, he kept missing his target.

"Obviously, they are not being friendly to each other, therefore, technically speaking, Aedan is not engaged in friendly fire," Jahn Pal said, assuming a scientific-like attitude.

"The soon-deceased Minir is now engaged in deadly combat against Aedan," Sai'wer informed the crew.

"Boys! Insolents! Cease your irresponsible handling of hazardous technology immediately," Andora commanded.

"Aedan, leave off," Kay Lee said.

"No, Aedan, get 'em!" said Kien, who had always been disliked by Minir because of his incessant pranks on the "comedian"

"Make him croak!" Andre cheered.

"Down with Minir! He called us GOODS!" Terry yelled.

"Boohoo! Please don't kill mommy!" Sai'wer begged.

"Yes, he must be in condition to attend his funeral," Jahn Pal said.

"No, GOOD, die!" Aedan screeched, recklessly flying his ship at top speed towards Minir. "Give up, GOOD!"

"Give up? _Give up?_" Minir gasped out. "WICKED, I was only kidding! It was only a WICKED joke come on please don't make me croak I'm too young and WICKED to croak…"

Aedan stopped in mid-fire. "A _joke_?"

The Wicked Club stopped their rooting.

"But Minir, you never joke," Terry said.

"You said you weren't funny," Andre added.

"Well, I'm the WICKED comedian, right?" Minir sounded cross.

Aedan threw back his head and let out a piercing shriek of a laugh. "!"

"Hoh hoh hoh! Haw haw haw! Huh huh huh!" his minions chortled.

"Hah. Hah. Hah," Minir said, hardly sounding amused.

"Aedan Kenobi, you are under arrest for high treason against the Republic," Andora said sternly.

"Aedan, you can't intentionally fire on your own teammates," Kay Lee said. "Watch your flank, Blue Leader! There's vultures bearing down on you!"

"Got it." Kan's ship turned around and fired on the incoming fighters.

Aedan frowned. He didn't like the idea of being put under arrest. Of course, he hadn't _really _intended to kill Minir. Just blast his ship to scare the guts out of him, that's all. Still, if Aedan explained this to Kay Lee and Kan, he doubted that they would understand. So how could he prove his WICKED innocence?

Just then he had an idea. "Man, WICKEDS, I was just joking like my WICKED comedian, right, Minir?"

"Well, you didn't GOODLY hit my ship, which I find surprising since your aiming skills are supposed to be WICKED –––"

"See? Me and Minir were only playing a joke on each other. I was trying to scare him," Aedan said hopefully.

Kay Lee and Kan considered for a moment in silence. "Well, all right," Kan said grudgingly. "Commander, I know this may sound illogical, but I think Aedan is right. I don't think he'd intentionally try to kill one of his friends, even a friend like Minir."

"Hey!" Minir shouted. "Take care, or I'll blast you out of the sky!"

"Uh –––– hah hah hah," Kien said. "Minir is so very WICKEDLY funny, no?"

"I wasn't joking this time," Minir muttered, but thankfully, Kan chose to ignore that comment. Aedan grinned triumphantly, relieved that Kay Lee had decided against arresting him for high treason. Whatever that was. It was probably just a fancy GOOD old word for having a joke. Andora could never take a WICKED joke.

"Commander, Blue group has successfully broken through the formation of fighters," Kan said. "We have a clear path to the blockade."

"Goo ––– wicked. Set your coordinates for the closest assault cruiser. You'll bombard the main points on the ship until it is taken out. Got it?"

"Negative, Commander."

"Captain Enik does not like my idea of attacking such large ships? Then please, turn around and head home to write a good explanation to Adriaan why you fled from the battle."

"No, Kay Lee, I have a better idea. These ships aren't very good at taking out large targets. They're designed for dogfights, not demolishing large cruisers. I suggest that we land inside the cruiser itself and do a little sabotage while your bombers do the rest outside."

"That's even more risky than attacking the cruiser by ship –––"

"Still, it'll be faster, and we need all the time we can get."

Kay Lee seemed to be contemplating. "All right."

"WICKED!" Aedan yelled.

"But stay out of trouble," Kay Lee said, "and stay together."

"Staying together WICKED!" Andre shouted.

"But not staying out of trouble," Minir said sulkily.

"And listen to Kan," Kay Lee added. "Remember, he is your leader, and you must follow his directions. Andora will be his assistant."

"Please, no," Kan said.

"To hear is to obey, Commander," Andora said primly. "I will joyously supervise my unruly sibling's organization to guarantee a GOOD and successful sortie."

The Wicked Club groaned.

"Stupid GOOD," Minir muttered.

"I hope she croaks," Andre hissed.

"She'll mess-up the whole mission," Terry agreed.

"She'll make sure we won't have any WICKED fun," Kien added.

"Not if I can WICKEDLY help it," Aedan said to himself, his eyes gleaming as a WICKED plan began to take shape inside his head.


	7. The Return Home

chapter 7

When Adriaan finally stepped off the ramp of her ship onto Coruscant, she almost felt like kissing the dirty duracrete pavement of the landing platform. True, they had landed without much incident, apart from Heatrian accidently smashing crates filled with expensive perfume when he landed. The merchant about to load the crates on his ship had been furious, and demanded compensation, which Klamin had been obliged to give. Adriaan herself didn't have a single credit in her pocket; in fact, she didn't think she had ever had money of her own. They had been lucky that Klamin had gotten his paycheck from Queen Hyrax before he left.

Yes, nothing had really happened on the way back, but still, Adriaan was glad that it was finally over. She had never liked the close confines of cruisers, and sharing a tiny ship with someone like Klamin made the one day trip even worse. It had been impossible to avoid him.

"Phew." Klamin said, holding his nose as they passed his Delta-7. "Heatrian, if you were going to crash into something, why, of all things, did you choose perfume? I feel like I'm beginning to lose the ability of my olfactory senses."

"At least it covers your foul stench," Heatrian replied. "You smell like flesh."

"And you smell like volcanic fumes."

"A delightfully WICKED aroma."

"Shut up," Adriaan said. "In case you haven't noticed, we're home."

Heatrian looked at the gigantic building in front of them. His mouth dropped open, lava oozing onto the platform and burning a hole in the duracrete. "That is _home_?" he asked incredulously.

"Yes. Now come on, I've got things I need to do," Adriaan said, stepping over the hole Heatrian's saliva had create as she marched toward the main stairs. "Hurry up, before some Jedi Knight comes by and had a heart attack at the sight of us."

"I thought you said that we'd fit in," Klamin said.

"Yes, but it might take some time to get used to you two," she said, glancing in their direction. Klamin's body was an aura of shapes and colors as he took on the forms of many different creatures. The Pyronite spewed lava from his eyes and reeled after them, looking at the Temple in amazement.

"That mountain is WICKEDLY huge! Does WICKED WICKED Truly WICKED Aedan WICKED Kenobi WICKED King of WICKED of WICKEDNESS live here? Do they have Pyronite-food? What are those pointy GOOD-looking things at the top? Where will I sleep? What time is it? Why are you GOODLY walking so fast? Is this a marathon or something?"

"Come on, Heatrian, what's your problem, anyway?" Adriaan asked impatiently, grabbing the kid by the collar of his heatproof green tunic, which was all she could touch on the being's liquid-hot body. Heatrian smiled wickedly, spitting droplets of magma all over the front of her tunic. Adriaan pinched out a flame on her sleeve and released the Pyronite.

"You shouldn't blame him," Klamin said. "You have to remember he's lived on Zylxx all his life. We don't have buildings like yours. Our mountains are about half the size of that building we are approaching."

"That building," Adriaan said slowly, "is the Jedi Temple."

"Temple? Pah! GOOD! You've lived here all your GOOD sad life and you still don't know that it's a WICKED mountain!" Heatrian scoffed.

For once, Klamin seemed too shocked to have a reply. Adriaan grinned at their bewilderment as she ran up the steps and burst through the doors of the Jedi Temple. Yes, it would take Klamin and Heatrian some time before they got used to the Temple, just as it would take the Temple awhile to adjust to these two exotic beings.

_Home. I'm home._

Nothing had changed. Everything was the same as she had left it. Time did not seem to affect the Temple. A group of Jedi shuffled past, hoods cast low over their faces. The atmosphere had a hushed, meditative feel. She could feel the awe in her companions as she stepped out into the dimly lit hallway.

"Adriaan –––" Klamin whispered.

She turned and faced them. "Welcome home."

"It's…more beautiful…than how I imagined it," Klamin said quietly, the awe in his voice unmistakable.

"WICKED," Heatrian breathed.

Just then, something flickered in the corner of her vision. She turned to look just as Heatrian pointed. "What is that?"

It was a long line of Jedi, walking slowly toward them. One of them held a torch, and the others seemed to be bearing something heavy. A Padawan walked beside them, a black cloak covering her head. Yet underneath the dark hood, Adriaan caught a gleam of fiery hair.

_Red hair. I've known someone with red hair. Red ––– red as the plains of Geonosis._

Just then she realized who it was. Jordin Skraps. Kan's best friend. The only being in the universe that could beat Andre in a talking contest. She had been on Geonosis. She and her Master, the sullen Clawdite. The Clawdite Jedi. Yil. Jade Yil.

"Jordin!" Adriaan called. The procession halted at the noise. The name echoed throughout the space, mournfully calling, then fading into silence. The girl looked at her. "Jordin!" She ran up to the girl, placing her hands on the thin shoulders.

Then she saw it. The pale face, the grief in the girl's eyes. Adriaan stumbled back, as if she had been punched in the stomach. Now she knew what the group of Jedi was.

A funeral procession. They were bearing the body of Jade Yil.

* * * * *

__Adriaan was silent as they made their way up to the Council Chambers. She pretended not to hear Heatrian's questions. She had had no idea he would be so ignorant about the galaxy outside the strictly regulated society of the Zylxxians. But then, she had forgotten that he had lived in a volcano almost all of his life.

Be that as it may, her thoughts weren't about Heatrian, or about Klamin, who was walking quietly behind her. The Shi'Odo alone seemed to sense that she was upset. Upset about Jordin.

_Don't be silly, _she told herself, _Things like this happen all the time. You can't stop it. You can't. You have enough problems as it is, looking after other people ––– Klamin, Kay, Heatrian, the Wicked Club, Andora…and Kan. That's more than any Jedi Master can handle, let alone a premature Jedi Knight like you. You never have time to look after _yourself _anymore. _He _warned you about that, you know. Look to your own survival._

_ "Then why do I feel so selfish? Why do I feel like I'm just listening to one of _his _lessons again?"_

Orphans. It was terrible to be an orphan. Especially if you were a Jedi-orphan. At the worst, an Apprentice whose Master died before completing their Padawan's training could be dismissed to the service camps if no other Master would take the Apprentice. But most of them were just left stranded at the Jedi Temple, waiting for reassignment. So it wasn't the end of the world. But it was still terrible.

Adriaan did not really know Jordin; she had dealt with her on Geonosis, of course, and Kan spoke of the girl frequently, but that was as far as Adriaan's acquaintance with her went. Kan knew Jordin better. He would be saddened to learn of this turn of events. As for the deceased, Adriaan had only met Jade Yil once, and she had never wanted to meet her again. Jade was one of those Jedi that tended to look down her nose at the younger Knights. Adriaan being the youngest Knight in the Order hadn't had the fortune of Yil's good will.

No; Adriaan hated to admit it, but she was not particularly saddened by the death of Jade. It was Jordin, the Apprentice, that she was worried about. Yil had joined the Force; she was in good hands. Jordin was the one that needed protection. She was in the same predicament Kan had found himself in when his old Master had died. But at least Adriaan had been there for him. She had taken him under her wing. There was no one to do the same for Jordin. There was nothing wrong with the girl ––– she was light and cheerful, a little talkative, but willing ––– she fit the standards of an excellent Apprentice. The problem was, there weren't many Masters available to give an orphaned Apprentice training. Too many had had their ashes scattered on the plains of Geonosis.

Adriaan already had an Apprentice. She was probably going to have more, if the Council approved of the motion of taking on Padawan Clans. If she got to choose who would join her clan, would there be enough room for Jordin to join, too? Kan would like that idea, but his opinion didn't matter in this instance. It was the Council that would make the final decision.

_Okay, I really can't stand the thought of having that little girl being left here with nothing to do. The idleness would drive an energetic creature like her stark raving mad. All right, I'll talk to the Council about it. After I speak to them about making Klamin and Heatrian Apprentices. Hopefully that won't take too much convincing. Speaking of which, I'd better start thinking of what I'm going to say at the meeting…_

"Young ell Talaan, early returning, you are. Heard, the Council has not, of your victory at the Kiyp Belt."

Adriaan jumped out of her thoughts and stepped back, embarrassed. In her musings, she had almost walked right over the greatest Jedi Master alive.

_Pay attention, idiot!_

Yoda looked at her sternly, his gimer stick tapping impatiently on the ground.

"Master Yoda," Adriaan stammered, bowing awkwardly, "Started the invasion of the Kiyp Belt, young Lee has, I mean ––––"

The Master stared calmly. "Know, we do, of the friendship between you and the Apprentice of Master Okiwa. Grieved, we are, to learn of Nadma's death."

"I have also under my care a certain Apprentice called Andre, the former Padawan of Master N'ut –––"

"Great friends, Andre has found, with the members of the Wicked Club."

"Yes."

Klamin was nudging her impatiently. "Adriaan, is that ––––"

"Master Yoda, may I introduce you to Klamin J'Oli, chief advisor of the Queen of Zylxx," Adriaan said hastily, pushing Klamin forward. "And this is his sla ––– I mean adopted brother, Heat –––"

"Heatrian Katri'andar Obsidi J'Oli, former WICKED secretary of GOOD Klamin Lash-ni J'Oli. I am a WICKED Pyronite, a WICKEDLY indigenous species of Zylxx. My WICKED mother volcano is Dejetnay-kalinash-katri'andar, the smallest but no less WICKED volcano in the Zwel-jic Mountain range. Pleased to make your WICKED acquaintance. WICKED WICKED Aedan told me much about you."

"What species are you?" Klamin asked, peering at Yoda closely. "Do you have any multiple organs? How many bones make up your skeletal system?"

"He wants to learn how to take on your shape," Heatrian explained. "He's a WICKED Shi'Odo shapeshifter."

"Off-topic," Adriaan said hastily. "Master Yoda, I know it may appear disloyal of me to leave my duties as Commander, but I have brought these two people to the Capital for a very important reason. The invasion of the Kiyp belt is currently being carried out by Captain Enik and Commander Lee."

He was silent for a moment. "Ambassadors of Zylxx, I think they are not," he said quietly, indicating the two aliens. "More to these two boys than meets the eye, there is."

"You feel it then, Master?" she asked.

Yoda nodded, his gaze roving so that it rested on the Shi'Odo and the Pyronite. "Force-sensitives, you are. Training as Jedi, you have had. By whom, I cannot see."

"Master, they say that they were trained by one of the Lost Twenty. By the one who knew one of the lost Jedi arts."

"The Night Falcon, that is. A rare crystal from Ossus, he had. Great, he was, but forever disappointed in himself, he was. Left the Jedi, he did, in order to regain what he had thought he had lost."

"Honor," Klamin said quietly.

"Inner Peace, he desired," Yoda said, looking at Klamin. "Surprised, I am not, to hear Apprentices he had taken."

"Not really Apprentices," Heatrian corrected. "He said he was too GOOD to teach us everything there is to WICKEDLY know, so he sent us to this place."

"Informed you, Commander ell Talaan no doubt has had, that younger initiates are when begin, they do."

"I am five WICKED standard years old," Heatrian said. "Though in Pyronite years, I am a little older."

"As a Shi'Odo shapeshifter, I never paid much attention to my age," Klamin said, grinning as his body took on the form of a young Jawa. The great Master looked far from impressed.

"Understand, you do, that very old, the rules of the Jedi are. Change them willingly, we do not."

"Master Yoda," Adriaan began. "I was Knighted at an age considered far too young according to the Jedi Code. And currently, the Council is considering to let another rule slide: the practice of not letting a Master train more than one Apprentice at a time ––––"

Yoda held up a hand. "Refused your request, I did not. Unusual, is this case. Decide immediately, the Council does not. With this turn of events, great care we must take."

"So you will at least consider it –––"

"Other duties, the Council has. Come, the time has, for the Council to decide whether to create Padawan Clans. A minority, Klamin and Heatrian are."

"Oh, come on, how can you call us minorities?" Klamin asked. "I'm almost three meters tall! How can anyone overlook that?"

"How can anyone call a being consisting almost entirely of molten rock a GOOD minority?" Heatrian said at the same time.

"Master, I fear that you do not realize the potential of these two Force-adepts –––" Adriaan said.

"Realize many things, I do. Follow your assertive example, I do not. Your presence, required it is at the Council chambers, tomorrow. The exact time, I will not give you, for late, you always are."

With that, the diminutive Jedi hobbled past them.

"Ooh," Klamin said. "That's gotta burn."

Adriaan had to agree. Yoda had rebuked her as soundly as if she were still an impatient little youngling again. She sighed wearily; she still had to show Klamin and Heatrian the rest of the Temple, and conceive of a solid plan of attack for tomorrow's meeting. But after her talk with Yoda, she felt she wouldn't have much luck with that.

Sighing, she led her charges to the turbolift and pressed a series of buttons that took them to the lower levels of the Temple. Since she wasn't counted among the best Jedi, her quarters was on one of the levels farthest from the Council Chambers. Most of the older Apprentices and newly Knighted Jedi were on the same level. It was also the level where the guest quarters were, and that was where Klamin and Heatrian would stay until the outcome of the Council meeting was determined.

The hallway they stepped out into was darker and narrower than some of the corridors they had passed through above, but it had the same atmosphere of peace and solitude. Adriaan had dwelt on the thirteenth level most of her short life, when she wasn't on missions or being sent to a Master's private office for some offense, that is. She smiled fondly at the memory of running through the hallway, screaming at the top of her lungs just to show people what she thought of the rule of no talking in the halls. She had made many tired Knights and elite Apprentices studying for the trials very mad. Of course, that had been when she was a Youngling, before the responsibility of becoming an Apprentice had fallen upon her small shoulders. A few weeks after having been Chosen by her Master, she had turned into a completely different person. A girl who crept in the shadows instead of running in the sunlight, unmolested and free.

"Where are we?" Heatrian asked, looking around curiously.

"The thirteenth level," she answered. "This is where most of the Apprentices and Knights live. Kan's room is down that hallway there," she said, pointing off toward the right. "Mine is at the opposite end."

"Where will we stay?" Klamin asked.

"The guest quarters, which are down this way," Adriaan said, heading off in the opposite direction. "I'll show you my quarters later. You are allowed to come to my room at any time for questions or advice, but you may not disturb the other Jedi and students living here. Many of them have to study very hard, and do not like people who intrude on their privacy. It is even worse with the Masters, who live on the higher levels, closer to the Council Chambers."

"I suppose that is just for convenience's sake, and not because the rooms up there are higher-quality," the Shi'Odo remarked.

"Yes. At the Temple, the quality will be much the same wherever you go. The student's quarters are kept closer to the classrooms, and the Master's live close to the Council Chambers. Everything was designed for a keen sense of balance here."

"Where is the WICKED King's abode?" Heatrian asked.

Adriaan made a face. "You mean his lair. It's at the lowest level, beneath the surface of the planet. Aedan was moved there years ago because he kept on disrupting the students living on his level. After he decorated an entire wall in a Master's room with dramatized versions of his 'wicked deeds', he was sent to permanently live in the storage area in the lowest level. The only other option would have been to put him in a cage. I must warn you never to visit that place, especially alone; there are tales of the ghosts of poor innocent strips of bantha jerky that lurk behind crates of second-rate tunics…"

Heatrian rolled his eyes. "Aw, give me a WICKED break."

Adriaan allowed herself to smile the tiniest bit. "Nonetheless, I do not recommend that you go down there to get anything from the Wicked Club's quarters. I went down there once, to view their fabled menagerie of creatures. Just barely got out alive. I would not, under any circumstances, go down there again."

"Why?" Klamin wanted to know.

She suppressed an involuntary shudder. "The stench alone down there can kill you."

"Stench does not irritate my WICKED senses," Heatrian informed her. "Besides, I WICKEDLY promised the WICKEDS that I would bring them some of their hologames."

"Suit yourself. Watch out for Aedan's pet massiff, though. I heard that it is quite vicious."

Heatrian flexed one of his lava biceps. "I can take care of that."

Adriaan knew that there were two adjoining rooms that were unoccupied, and she soon found them near the beginning of the hallway. She punched in a few numbers into the keypad on the wall, and one of the doors slid open. She stepped in. "This is your room, Klamin. And this," she said, walking toward another door in the room, "is where you will be staying, Heatrian."

The boys looked around curiously. The rooms were identical to each other. Each had a low bed in the corner, a bare shelf for keeping their personal belongings, and a meditation mat rolled up in a corner. The quarters were simple ––– almost spartan ––– but they were clean and filled with light.

Heatrian looked around at the tiny room in distaste. "I hate it. This room is GOOD."

"Well, Heatrian, you'd better get used to it," Klamin said, hardly looking embarrassed by his friend's bluntness, "because this is how the Jedi live."

"I think they live like dogs."

There was an awkward silence.

"Why do you say that?" Klamin asked, his easiness sounding a bit forced.

"This room is the size of the Royal nek battle dog kennels on Zylxx."

"Well, boys, you shouldn't get your hopes up on fine living," Adriaan said. "Jedi live pretty simple lives. Most of us don't even have an extra tunic to spare."

"How do you guys survive?" Klamin asked. "And how will we eat?"

"The Senate supplies us with that sort of thing," Adriaan explained.

"So you get paid for duties to the Republic?"

"We refuse any sort of reward. We live _without Reward, without Remorse, without Regret,_" she quoted.

"Wow."

"If you would like to see me before the Council Meeting tomorrow," Adriaan said briskly. "I'm the second door on the right down the hall. You'll know it by a Colo Clawfish sign hung over the door. Colo Clawfish was the name of my Youngling Clan back in my student days."

"Thanks, Adriaan," Klamin said gratefully. "I'll be sure to stop by."

_I'm sure you will, _Adriaan thought wryly.

"I would like some formal training from you before the Council Meeting tomorrow. Will you be available to instruct me, Master?" Klamin asked respectfully.

It suddenly struck her that that was the first time he had called her 'Master' This made her more willing to consider giving him a few lessons. After all, he shouldn't be wanting super-advanced training, would he? "What exactly do you want to work on?"

"Well, I sort of need to work on Form 4 for the tonfa blade. Falcon could only teach me the first three. I didn't even start using the tonfa handle until last year. Do you know it?"

She was beginning to feel a hard cold lump of fear in her stomach. She knew the form, or at least, she used to. She had been taught tonfa Form 4 years ago, but she had forced herself to forget. Forget everything that happened that one day when she was using that specific style…

"On second thought, I believe that my schedule is full for tomorrow," Adriaan said coldly.

Klamin looked crestfallen. "Well, all right, if you can't find the time to teach me, I guess I can just work by myself."

She was beginning to feel nauseated, torn between utter terror and feeling terrible for acting so selfish. He only wanted a little bit of training so he wouldn't be so freaked when it was time for him to be tested before the Council…

_I would teach him anything. Anything but this. Anything but tonfa Form 4. Remember what happened last time I used one. My Master demanded that I learned to use it. I never could. And I never will._

"I think she's just a GOOD old coward," Heatrian taunted. "Womp rat! GOOD!"

Adriaan's right foot was already out the door, but she paused at this comment. Her left foot seemed glued to the floor of the room as she turned and faced the reproachful glances of the boys.

"Why would I be afraid of a lightsaber?" Adriaan said. Her voice was so measured, and cold. It didn't sound like her voice at all. "I have used one all my life."

"But not a tonfa," Heatrian said triumphantly. "WICKED WICKED Aedan was right. You are GOODLY frightened. Typical. I'll make a bet that you're too afraid to use one. I bet you don't even know what Form 4 _is._"

That was it. No one was going to get away with that. She may be afraid, but she certainly wasn't going to let anyone know it. Jedi weren't supposed to fear anything. What harm could come out of trying, anyway?

"Fine. I'll take your bet," Adriaan said. "Klamin, meet me at my quarters two hours before dawn tomorrow. I'll take you to the training area and give you your first lesson."

She turned on her heel and stalked away. But she felt a cold shiver of fear trickle down her spine.

She had forced the knowledge of the form from her mind years ago. What if she couldn't remember it?


	8. Class Session at Dawn

chapter 8

Adriaan kicked her blanket off her sleep mat and sat up, dressing in the dark. She placed her hand on the floor, feeling the Living Force vibrating underneath her. Good. She had woken up just a few minutes after midnight. She would have plenty of time to work before she had to teach Klamin.

She threw her dark woolen cloak around her shoulders and stood up, stalking noiselessly to her door and opening it just a crack. The tiles in the hallway felt icy cold to her bare feet, and she regretted not having put on her boots. But then, she could move much faster and more quietly with nothing encumbering her feet.

_Okay. Time to prove to myself that I am not afraid._

She flitted in and out of the shadows, avoiding the dimmed glowlights that were set at regular intervals in the halls. Even though it was the dead of night, not all the Jedi were asleep. She didn't want to have any confrontations with any of the night wanderers. They wouldn't want to be disturbed in their musings.

She passed the turbolift, deciding to take the stairs instead. Running up three steps at a time, it was still a good ten minutes before she arrived, breathless, forty levels above. She was now on the levels that most Knights lived on. She crept through the hushed hallways, skirting a group of Jedi strolling down the corridor. Adriaan sighted her destination. It was one of the many swimming pools that graced the Temple area. The Jedi gave their home a sense of balance, purity, and natural beauty, so there were many rooms filled with lush gardens and fountains. This specific pool, however, was her favorite hide-out. It was one of the smaller ones, so it wasn't as popular; therefore, there weren't as many people there. It wasn't the best swimming area, but the water was deep, and Adriaan liked the solitude. There was a diving rock that she used to sit on when she was restless, and sometimes she would doze off while sitting on it and wake up as she was falling down into the water…

She drew back into the protection of a pillar, scarcely daring to breathe. The large black outlines of two Jedi were illuminated against the soft moonlight that was reflected erratically in the pool. She had rarely seen anyone near her pool, and it surprised her now to see two Jedi there, conversing in the dead of night. She crept closer to get a better look at them, using the Force to sharpen her night senses.

"…Okiwa lost the Hai revolt two weeks ago," one of them was whispering. Adriaan racked her brains, but couldn't put the voice to a face. She recognized almost all the Jedi in the Temple, even though most didn't even know her. This disturbed her. She should know who this Jedi was. "Has there been any news since then?"

"A report came in today," the other Jedi said. "Master N'ut and Nadma Okiwa died in the retreat. Apparently, they were trying to give their Apprentices time to escape."

"Did they?"

"Yeah. Heard that N'ut's Apprentice got hooked up with that bantha-brained Wicked Club."

"Really? Come to think of it, my senses haven't been assailed by their carcasses lately. Have they finally been expelled?"

The other one snorted. "Far from it. That ell Talaan kid is supposed to take them as Padawans."

"Ell Talaan? She's that really young Jedi, right? Never heard of her until last year. Heard her Master was killed when she was about eighteen. At least that's what the Council says. I think she's a lot younger than she says she is. Probably lying to protect herself."

_He's right. I lied to the Council. I'm only sixteen. What really surprised me is that they actually believed me._

"She's already got an Apprentice. Xelan's one. He's the one that followed us to Geonosis."

"So the Council is starting to get slack with the Jedi Code. Big surprise. It all started when they tried to speed up the process of becoming a Jedi Knight a few years ago. Some Apprentices left after that. Couldn't take the strain."

_I remember that. My Master was furious when I wasn't one of the Apprentices nominated for the test mission. I'm glad now that I didn't go. That was when Siri Tachi's Apprentice decided to leave the Order._

"No, I believe their authority was diminished the moment they decided to let that Skywalker kid become an Apprentice. He was way beyond age. Master Yoda did not approve."

"Now they're worried that there are too few of us to train Apprentices. So they're trying to start this Padawan Clan business. That's not such a bad idea. Over half of us were killed last month on Geonosis."

"But why pick ell Talaan for the trial clan? And why choose, out of the many respectable students here, the absolutely worst group of Younglings to become Padawans?"

"The ways of the Council are mysterious."

"What I find most mysterious is this Adriaan ell Talaan," the other replied. "She just appeared out of nowhere. There is no background information in the Archives on her. It's like she was just born."

"I know. And what we do know about her is odd. Apparently, she had a run-in with the Disciples of Ragnos when she was younger, so she's a dark force adept walking right under the Council's nose. It's outrageous. What with that unknown sith lurking somewhere out there ––––"

_Moons and stars, _she thought, _they think I'm the sith lord!_

"I don't think ell Talaan could possibly be the one, Aensla. Have you heard any of the reports coming in from the Syleeto system? Ell Talaan just secured the capital planet, with the Wicked Club at her heels, too. I call that a major accomplishment. She just ordered some reinforcements to help her recapture the rest of the system. It's the best news we've had all month. Whatever she is, I'm beginning to like this ell Talaan, dark Jedi or not. I don't think a sith lord would work against himself ––– or herself ––– would you?"

Adriaan did not hear Aensla's reply. She couldn't take anymore. Backing away from the pool, she turned and fled down the halls. She had no way of knowing when the two Jedi would leave, and time was running out. She started out for the training areas.

* * * * *

__She only had a few hours left to practice. Her body was hot and sweaty, and she was fuming with frustration. She had let the conversation she had overheard between the two Jedi get on her nerves, so her brain wasn't able to concentrate on the form.

_"It's outrageous. A dark Jedi walking right under our noses…"_

"_She appeared out of nowhere. No background information…it's like she was just born."_

_This isn't good. I was afraid of this; of people getting suspicious about me. That Jedi actually went so far as to look me up in the Archives. What if they find out…_

She twirled the student training saber, following the routine carefully. Of course, she had remembered the form perfectly once she had dug the knowledge of it out of her brain. So it hadn't been forgotten at all. "_Don't pause in the movement, _she heard her old trainer shouting at her, _move swiftly, like a strong current in the water. Don't stop! If you don't stop moving, you'll be dead faster than it takes a borra to make a snack of an ewok."_

_ "But I don't like this technique. It's too uncontrollable." _She remembered saying that. What had he answered?

"_You _will _do it. Only the most talented Jedi use this handle. Who cares about being uncontrolled? It fits you perfectlym for you are uncontrollable, like the tonfa handle. Remember that. It is an extension of your body. It is part of you."_

_ "These sabers make it impossible to do a lightsaber lock. What if I end up in that situation?"_

_ "That is why you must learn to use two, instead of one. This isn't a two-hand weapon. It's not a strong style. You have to be agile and quick to use it. Don't let your right hand dangle uselessly at your side. Put another lightsaber into your hand."_

Adriaan did some footwork as she spun the training lightsaber in her left hand. As she moved, she held out her free hand, summoning the Force. Another tonfa saber flew across the room and landed neatly in her outstretched palm. Swinging it into motion, she quickened the tempo of the rhythm.

_ Faster, faster._

High block with left hand. Keep right hand in front of your torso. Right hand into high block. Left hand comes down. Legs wider apart. Front attack stance. Full step. Slide step back. Reverse step. Keep the sabers twirling. Keep spinning. Toes need to be turned out. Don't rest on your heels; it's like a dance. Keep going…

Adriaan did a cross-step into a jumping axe kick. The training sabers cleaved through the air in a figure eight pattern. She twisted her right arm behind her back and let go of the lightsabers, the Force propelling the hilts in a circle around her body. Her heart soared with the beauty of the form. Why had she been so afraid of it? Never before had she felt so in tune with the Force, so balanced and graceful. Her fears had been baseless. There was nothing to be afraid of…

"_Keep the rhythm steady, Adriaan, or you will lose control…"_

_ Hah! _She thought. _Who needs control? Look how powerful I am when I let myself go. Control was just holding me back. The Jedi have been teaching us all wrong._

_ "Oh no Adriaan you've got to slow down watch out…"_

She lost her focus. She had come to the part of the form she had wanted to forget. But it had refused to be forgotten. Memories flooded her, distracting her…

_I've got to keep my focus…_

_ "You've killed him!"_

_ No. Spinning too fast. Out of control. Darc. Darc is in the way. I can't stop the momentum…_

There was a terrible sound of flesh being cleaved down to the bone, the horrible smell of fear and singed skin. Her arms felt like they were propelled by a motor; she couldn't stop them. She watched in horror as the two deadly shafts of light ––– one red and one blue ––– sliced through the arm of her best friend, the only one who ever cared about her…

_"You're a sith! You don't know self-control! You killed him!"_

A lifeless arm flying through the air. Darc, hair floating in the wind, falling limply like a doll. Eyelids closed, shutting his clear blue-gray eyes in pain, in death…

_Oh, what have I done? Darc, please don't die. Please stay with me…_

_ She opened her eyes. She was standing in the medical center, watching as a droid appendage was attached to the stump of his arm. He lay still, too proud to cry aloud in his suffering. Adriaan blinked back tears that did not fall. He had to be all right. He had to. She was slowly going blind; everything was shrouded by a dull gray curtain…_

_"It's all right, Ree. It was just a hand. You didn't do it on purpose."_

_ She leaned over the coverlet, taking his good hand into her own. She gazed into his eyes. "I don't care. I will not use the tonfa blade again."_

_**Whack!**_

__Adriaan came back with a jolt into real-time as the training saber smacked into her face. Surprised, she stumbled backward and fell hard on her back. She did not get up. She was too dazed.

_Oh, please. I cannot. I vowed I would not. I can't do this._

"Why did you stop?" A voice asked from close by.

At the sound, Adriaan leaped to her feet. Who dared to spy on her? Turning around, she came face to face with Klamin. She stared at him, speechless with angry embarrassment.

"What ––– who –––" she struggled to find words. "You were not supposed to be here for two hours at least."

"Well, you weren't, either."

Unfortunately, this was true. "How ––– how much did you actually see?"

"The very end of the form. But it was enough." His facial features shifted as he turned into a human. "Adriaan, why did you make that bet with Heatrian if you can't do the form? You could have told me."

Adriaan ran her fingers through her sweaty, tangled mass of hair. "I know Form 4, I really do. I just haven't done it in a while. I was practicing. It's a Jedi rule that a Knight must only teach what he or she has learned. I was worried that I had forgotten it. I'm sorry."

Klamin's face was thoughtful. "You know, it really wasn't very bad for not having done it in a while. In fact, that was the best I've ever seen it performed. It was absolutely flawless. Except for one thing."

Adriaan Force-pulled the training sabers to her and clipped them to her utility belt. "What was the mistake?"

"When someone wishes to tame a krayt dragon, do they keep it in a cage and refuse to handle it?" It appeared that he was changing the subject, but Adriaan felt there was a hidden meaning to his words.

"Oh, well, no," she said after a moment. "I suppose if you wanted it trained, keeping it in a cage would be the wrong way to go about it."

"Then you have just answered your own question."

She was puzzled. What did he mean? "I don't understand."

"I don't, either. You've closed your mind and heart up inside you, so no one can get in. So that no one knows you. Only when you open yourself up will I be able to help you."

Adriaan looked down at the floor, contemplating. "My Master tried to make me use the tonfa a long time ago. We went on a mission with several other Master/Padawan groups. At that time, I had been working on this form. I didn't see that my friend was behind me. I couldn't stop my arms from swinging…" her voice trailed off.

"Did you kill him?" Klamin asked quietly.

"Thank the Force I didn't. If I had, I wouldn't be here today. The Council would have expelled me. His whole arm was taken off. I felt really bad."

"Why did you stop working on the form, if you hadn't perfected it?"

"Don't you see? I _could've _killed him. It was only by chance his head wasn't cut off or something. No, I will never use the tonfa blade ever again. Even if my life depends on it. It's too uncontrollable. Too _dangerous_."

"I understand," the Shi'Odo said. "I will leave you now, if you do not feel like teaching me today."

She took a deep breath, releasing some of the tension inside her. "There is no one here. Everyone is asleep. Would a krayt pass up a perfect opportunity for fresh bantha meat?"

Klamin grinned. "No."

Adriaan thought carefully for a moment. "I will not use the tonfa myself," she said finally, "but that does not mean I cannot teach you. Come with me."

She led him to the physical training area. A huge square mat used for martial arts was in the center of the room. Around it, there were several racks with different kinds of training targets and lightsabers hung on them. There were weights stacked in one corner, along with other workout equipment. An adjoining door led to a room with mats, obstacles, spring floors, and a trampoline. That room was reserved for agility training. Adriaan pointed everything out to her student, encouraging him to use the equipment whenever he wanted.

"All right, let's work on the form," Adriaan said finally. They were standing in the center of the sparring mat, facing the wall covered with mirrors. She was beginning to feel more comfortable; more at ease. More like a Jedi Master. But she couldn't help smiling at the reflection in the mirrors. It looked almost comical, her lean, long-legged body dwarfed by the Shi'Odo's gigantic frame. _It almost looks like _he's_ the one that's teaching me, _she thought wryly as they withdrew their training sabers.

"Attack stance," she directed. Their left feet simultaneously moved out, the training saber held behind the head, the free hand spread out across the torso. "How much of the form have you perfected?"

"None," Klamin shook his head. "I just learned the moves. I didn't have time to hone in on anything."

"Okay. I'll go through it with you so that I can see what you need to work on."

"Wouldn't it be better if you just stood by and watched me?"

"True," Adriaan agreed. "But you will soon learn I don't use standard Jedi training modes. I can watch better if I'm already moving. Besides, I don't want to make you feel nervous by me watching you."

"Actually, I like attention. But I thought you said you would never use a tonfa lightsaber."

"Training sabers aren't dangerous as long as you use them properly. I'm going to take your advice and try the form again. Will you help me?"

"Yes."

They stood still, slowing their breathing, finding the calm center in their soul. It was crucial for a Jedi to have a clear mind, especially when attempting tonfa Form 4. Adriaan felt her lungs expand, taking in the fresh air of dawn. A new day had begun. The past must be forgotten. Eyes should be forward, not looking back. Not regretting the mistakes long ago made.

The Force surged. Adriaan did not reach out a hand to access it. Instead, she groped for it with her mind, letting it fill her body as she took in another deep breath of air. Air was life. Life was joined with the Force. The Force and the air; they were the same.

"_Form 4 of the tonfa. To perform it, you must have a clear mind, and a heart of durasteel. Your limbs must be strong as a mountain, yet as gentle and light as a breeze. Air is the key element of Form 4. Remember that."_

They moved together; the human girl and the giant alien shapeshifter. Full step forward. Slide, swing, full step back. Again with the other side. Good. Reinforced in-to-out block, middle-knife with your free hand. Keep your palm open, your fingers shouldn't spread apart. Add the second lightsaber.

Klamin and Adriaan each reached out a hand, and started to move with two sabers instead of one. Their movements blended and became like water, like the wind through the trees, whispering softly.

High block with left hand. Keep right hand in front of your torso. Right hand into high block. Left hand comes down. Front attack stance. Full step. Slide step back. Reverse step. Turn your torso, keep your shoulders straight. Always keep the swords moving. Cross-step into a jumping axe kick. Butterfly kata. Right arm behind your back. Now let go of the lightsabers, propelling the hilts in a circle around your body, like a vortex.

Down to one knee, upper cut with the left saber. Follow through with the other one. Throw your leg behind your head and use the momentum to flip yourself to a standing position. Three-sixty roundhouse kick. Power sidekick to back kick. Back flip to a split kick. Now do a jumping spin hook kick with the other leg. Perfect.

_ "The sun is coming." _Her mind was open, even though she did not realize she had unlocked it. Was it the power of the form that was opening her up to her companion? Klamin was inside her now, speaking to her, reading the thoughts in her heart faster than words could speak.

_"I know," _she said to him.

"_The last part of the form is the hardest," _she remembered hearing her Master say. "_Think of it as reaching for the sun. The sun is also a part of life. It gives us warmth, and light, and it is a symbol of hope. For who can live without hope?"_

_ I have lived without hope. But is that really living? A person without hope is like a Sith tomb. Devoid of life, filled with nothing but fear, defile, hatred, despair. _

_ "Reach out, Adriaan. You can't just stand back and lock your feelings up inside," Klamin said. "Think of yourself as a flower opening, spreading your petals to catch the sunlight."_

Suddenly, the lightsabers left her hands and leapt away from her body. She knelt down to the floor, arms upraised and controlling the spinning sabers so that they flew around her head in a circular motion. Though she could not see the Shi'Odo from her position, the Force told her that he was doing the same.

They slowly stood, turned, faced the open doorway. The lightsabers fell silently back into their utility belts. Through the window at the end of the room, the Coruscant sun peeked its first red rays over the tall buildings of Coruscant. It was morning.

Adriaan let out the breath she realized she had been holding. What had just happened? She looked over at Klamin, who was looking at her in a curious way.

"You lied to me about not perfecting Form 4," Adriaan told him. "Your routine was flawless."

"I didn't lie. Exactly. Nothing can be totally perfect, can it?"

And when Adriaan thought about it, she could see that he had a point. "But you could've told me. We could've worked on something else –––"

"But it wouldn't have been the same. I didn't want you to be my trainer, I wanted you to train _with _me."

"Why?"

"I just want you to give me a chance at being your friend. Because I do want to be your friend, Adriaan. I thought we were on good terms with one another. Remember how we worked together to defeat the CIS spy? You've changed since then. You haven't been as friendly. What happened?"

She looked down at her boots. She remembered, all right. What _had _happened anyway? She had trusted him before, why did she feel so uncomfortable around him now? Was it something he had said? Something she had felt? Was the Force warning her of something? "I haven't changed. I just don't want you to get mixed up with me and my terrible reputation. I'm afraid I'll be a bad influence."

"You can't just shut yourself out from life."

"Well, I sort of have to. I stink at living."

"Aw, come on, if you're alive, how can you say that?" When she broke into a smile, he grinned back. "Ah, so you _can _smile. I was starting to get worried that there really was no sun behind that thundercloud."

"I smile."

"Not very often. See, you're frowning again."

"Well, I'm not always in very amusing situations," Adriaan remarked.

"Me, neither. But I still smile. You can find humor in even the worst situations. Try smiling more often. You'll find life much less difficult. Besides, it's been scientifically proven that people who smile or laugh often can live up to ten years longer than people who tend to take things more seriously."

"Ah," Adriaan said without interest. As he continued babbling about some other little-known fact about the universe, she began walking back to the turbolift. It was still very early in the morning, but she figured she'd better eat something before the Council meeting. "Do you want something to eat?" she asked Klamin.

He paused in the middle of a sentence, his mouth open. "Yes. Did you know that the humanoid population height average is getting taller?" he continued, as if there had been no interruption. "I bet you can't guess why."

She accessed the turbolift and waited for the door to open. She figured by the silence that he was expecting some sort of acknowledgment from her to continue, so she asked, "Why?"

"Because –––" paused so that the word hung suspended in the air. In spite of herself, Adriaan began to feel curious about his answer.

"Well, why?"

He smiled, satisfied that he had finally captured his audience. "Because girls tend to like boys that are taller than them. They marry the taller men. The shorter boys are tending to stay single because they're beginning to have a hard time finding girls that will marry them. Interesting, isn't it?" He looked extremely proud of himself, because he was over two meters tall and didn't have the misfortune of being vertically challenged.

Adriaan coughed, successfully resisting the temptation of pressing her hands to her ears and screaming. Klamin was impossible! He didn't seem to realize that she had no interest in that sort of information. After all, Jedi did not get married. They did not fall in love. And personally, she didn't believe Klamin when he said girls preferred boys that were tall. What was wrong with being short? Yoda was small, and he was the best Jedi in the entire universe. As the great Master said, "Size matters not" But perhaps that was just another thing about life outside the temple that she just didn't understand.

"Yes, very interesting," Adriaan said finally.

"What is interesting, GOODS?" Heatrian said from behind.

Klamin whirled around. "You are up early, Heatrian."

"That depends on your WICKED point of view."

Adriaan felt the Shi'Odo stiffen. "May I presume why?"

"For WICKED reasons of my own. Last time I checked, this is a WICKEDLY free Republic."

Klamin relaxed, shapeshifting into a Duros. "Sorry, Heatrian. You just startled me."

"Why are you no longer at the training areas, GOODS?"

"We finished the lesson," Adriaan replied easily. "And we were just going to go up to get some breakfast. Do you care to join? Or do you have a more important occupation at the moment?"

"As I have WICKEDLY informed you before, I do not eat man-food," the Pyronite said, spitting lava vehemently on the floor.

"Then you are going somewhere else?" Klamin asked.

"I am going with you."

"No," Klamin said.

Adriaan looked at them, puzzled. There was tension between them. She could feel it. Had they possibly gotten into an argument last night, when she had left? Obviously, or they would not be so abrupt with each other. "Klamin, I don't see why Heatrian shouldn't go where he pleases here."

"He's a sneak," Klamin muttered.

"Sneak yourself," Heatrian retorted.

"Lava heap."

"If you GOODLY dare to call me that again, I'll WICKEDLY skin your sorry GOOD shapeshifting hide…"

Adriaan rolled her eyes. "Look, guys, if you're not going to cooperate, I'll just leave you both to find the Temple kitchens as best as you can."

Klamin's face fell. "Ah, in that case, I'll try to keep my mouth shut."

"But I wouldn't WICKEDLY count on it," Heatrian muttered.

Adriaan shot him a warning glance as she accessed the turbolift and stepped inside. Suddenly she remembered something. "Oops, I forgot my datapad back at my quarters," she said, punching the button for the thirteenth level instead. "If I give you guys the directions, do you think you can find the kitchens by yourself?"

Heatrian shrugged. "Depends on how GOOD the instructions are."

"It's easy. Just go up to the seventy-ninth level. Then walk straight down the main hall in front of you when you step out of the turbolift. The door's at the end."

"Gotcha."

Adriaan stepped out, and the turbolift doors closed. She watched as the turbolift zoomed back up, then began the short trek back to her quarters.

She stopped in front of her door. The Colo Clawfish holo glowed in the dimly lit hallway as usual, but she felt that something was amiss. Something was out of place inside her room. Had someone rummaged through it while she was gone?

_I'd better remember to lock the door when I leave the room, _she thought as the door slid open silently. _ Who knows who might come prowling around in it in dangerous times like these. Some city lowlife, or a merc, or maybe even a Dark Jedi._

She shuddered, then stiffened as her Force-senses picked up a signal. The Living Force was present inside her room. She almost felt like turning and running back down the hall, but her stubborn strength of will kept her standing there. _What have I got to be afraid of? _She thought. _I must be starting to crack if I'm afraid to walk inside my own room._

Putting on as brave a face as she could, she stalked into her room, wincing as the door slid behind her with a dull clang. It made an ominous sound.

Adriaan squinted at the unaccustomed darkness, feeling along the wall for the light switch. She started as a shadow darted out of the corner of her vision. So she _wasn't _wrong about something getting into her room after all.

She put her hand to her lightsaber clipped to her utility belt as she stared into the gloom. Perhaps her worst nightmare had become reality; perhaps Aedan's miniature rancor had finally found it's way up from the ground floor. Well, at least it decided to drop in when she was prepared to deal with it.

But if it were the rancor, its movements wouldn't be so subtle, so human. She took her hand off her lightsaber and folded her arms across her chest, suppressing a shiver. "Who goes there?"

"You're wanted at the Council Chambers," a voice said. "_Immediately._"

"What the heck are you doing in _my _room?" Adriaan asked, finding the light switch and flicking it on. Light flooded the room.

She blinked. The person sent to fetch her was only a human boy of about seventeen years of age. His blond hair had been died silver and sprouted in all directions from his head. A flimsy Padawan braid was arrogantly thrown behind his back, as if he wanted to keep it hidden. He was dressed in a spotless white tunic, with no markings on the utility belt. Overall, he looked like he had never been in combat. Compared to her, he was as experienced as a newborn baby. Adriaan could not help smiling at his condescending manner towards her. Who did he think he was, anyway?

"_Your _room? That sounds awfully possessive, doesn't it?" the boy countered. "I thought Jedi had no possessions."

"Correct. But what are you doing here?"

"Like I said. You're wanted at the Council Chambers. Top secret meeting thing. They told me to bring you there promptly."

"May I ask why?" Adriaan remarked as she went to her dresser and picked up her datapad.

"No questions. They said to bring you there or I'm bantha kabobs. Don't bother dressing formal. Your problem if they yell at you. On the double now!"

"Oh shut up," Adriaan said irritably. "You're bantha kabobs if you keep your bad manners up. I thought Apprentices were supposed to be respectful to their elders."

"True," the boy agreed. "But you are not my elder."

"I am higher in echelon."

He momentarily appeared confused. No doubt he had no idea what the word "echelon" meant. But evidently, the use of the word had a positive effect on him. He gave a short bow in her direction before walking toward the turbolift. "Meant no disrespect, ma'am, but the Council said it was urgent. Come along now…Master."

Adriaan squared her shoulders, took a deep breath, and followed him.

Break-time was over.


	9. Dead Twins and Dismembered Limbs

chapter 9

"The hangar's shields are still up! We can't get in!" Kan shouted as the laser turrets lining the hull of the CIS cruiser fired at the Padawans.

"No problem, WICKED-O," Aedan said, yanking the controls to a hard right and firing at one of the turrets that guarded the hangar bay. "Missiles, WICKEDLY deploy!"

There was a bloom of fire as the turret exploded. One down, one more to go.

"Ah!" Just then, a startled scream of pain escaped from Andora. "Captain Enik, my craft has been impaired! I do not surmise that it is capable of landing."

Aedan craned his neck so that he could get a better view of Andora's ARC-170. She was right. The cockpit looked like an inferno. How could a GOOD like her possibly be alive? She must be roasting.

"Just hang on!" Kan yelled.

"Captain, it is my opinion that my ship will not maintain its present form much longer," Andora said as calmly as she could. "I'm losing control; my vehicle is commencing into a death spiral. Complete the mission!"

His twin, dying? Inconceivable. Even if she was a GOOD, no Kenobi was going to die from a laser turret blast. Aedan bit his lip and zoomed closer to his sister's ship. "GOOD, I'll escort you in," he said to Andora. "Someone take out that other laser turret!"

There was another fireball as the other turret exploded. "Got it! Go in Andora!" Kay Lee shouted.

In slow motion, the ship began to go into the death spiral. "I can't…can't see a thing…" Andora seemed to be fading out.

_Swimming, swimming with his twin in dark waters…_

_ Screaming, kicking with fury as he was brought into a bright, bright world, a world without Andora._

_ He remembered the last time she laughed. Andora was shrieking with delight as they played tag in the windblown grass…_

The emergency hangar doors began to shut.

"You're not going to make it! Turn around!" Kay Lee screamed.

"If we GOODLY retreat, GOOD old Andora is a croaker!" Minir said grimly.

"Then let's WICKEDLY turn around," Andre suggested.

"No!" Aedan yelled. "We're going to WICKEDLY do it!"

"Womb mate!" Andora cried, and then there was no more sound except static coming from Aedan's comm system. The silence seemed even more unbearable than the startled cry of pain that had escaped from his usually calm sister.

"Hang on, you GOOD!" Aedan shouted, putting on a boost of speed.

The others squeezed through the swiftly narrowing crack. Now there was about ten meters of space to fly through. Aedan shut his eyes and mentally glued his mouth shut to prevent him from uttering a cry of sheer terror. Yes, Aedan the Terrible, the WICKED, was afraid. Afraid that his WICKED reputation and career was coming to a GOOD end. Afraid that his twin, his GOOD twin, his pompous, boring old twin, was going to die…

Aedan's eyelids flew open as his ship landed in the CIS hold with a jarring screech as the ARC-170 scraped along the floor before coming to an abrupt halt just in front of a taking off trifighter. Aedan popped the top of the cockpit bubble open and leaped out just as the trifighter slammed into his docked craft. Aedan flipped in the hot waves of energy, being carried away from the blast in a surge of air until he landed on his face at Kan's feet. See, if the trifighter hadn't been a droid, it wouldn't have been so stupidly GOOD as to crash into a stationary fighter. At least Aedan would have had the WICKED reflexes to move his ship out of the way in time.

_Andora. _Aedan staggered to his feet, then was thrown back onto the floor as another huge explosion rocked the bay. He covered his head as flaming bits of debris fell around his body. _No. The GOOD. Andora didn't make it. She croaked._

"She's…gone." It was Kan who said the dreaded words. His voice sounded flat with disbelief.

Aedan stood up, facing the gigantic fireball that was the funeral fire of his twin, and screamed at the injustice of it. "It's not WICKEDLY fair!" he shrieked. "I'll never have the chance to carry out plan 899 270ANNOYANDORA! If you were going to croak, you GOOD, why didn't you do it when I _wasn't_ planning on WICKEDLY annoying you?!"

He sunk to his knees, the weight in his heart pressing him down to the ground. He had never known he had cared so much for the constant object of his ridicule. Andora had always been the GOODEST; she had always been the Wicked Club's worst enemy. And yet, he was sorry that she was now dead.

Minir choked. The comedian had never liked Andora; he had never liked _anyone_. Yet even he, the hardest-hearted of them all, had been moved to tears. Why was Aedan's entire Wicked Club crying for his dumb GOOD sister? After all, their motto was "Only GOODS die." Andora was a GOOD, wasn't she? Therefore, her time was allotted in the universe. They shouldn't be sorry. Aedan could not think of any WICKED reason why they should be crying.

So, he went up to the closest minion and slapped him across the face. Hard.

"Ow, ow, oh!" Sai'wer bawled. "Wh–why did you s-s-slap me?"

"Because, GOOD, it is time to move on," Aedan snapped. "Find the main defense frame and disable it now!"

"Aedan, don't you care?" Kan asked sharply. "I mean, I know Andora didn't always get along with you, but she was your sister."

"Jedi do not concern themselves with ties of blood," Aedan said stiffly. But inside, his heart sank like a stone. Andora had had her faults, true, but he wished that she was still alive. Just for a few more hours, so that he could have one last chance to get on her very last nerve. Aedan was WICKED at that.

"For once, counterpart, I fear that I must concur with you, faulty as your logic intermittently is," Andora said.

Aedan rubbed his eyes and picked a glob of earwax from his ears, wondering if his senses were functioning. For standing in front of them, disheveled, dirty, yet still carrying herself with that unspeakably annoying sense of dignity, was his twin sister, alive and as pompous as ever. Kan gasped, and the Wicked Club involuntarily took a step backward, except for Aedan, who was rooted to the floor in astonishment. He blinked, then inhaled deeply. His nose wrinkled. Yep, it definitely wasn't a ghost. Even though she looked like a mess, she still had that aroma of cleanliness that always made his nose tingle. He preferred the spicier, stronger odors of the garbage can; he hated the smell of clean.

"I deem you to be inarticulate, womb mate," Andora said. "You've never seemed to lack an unceasing commentary until now. And as for the rest of you unsophisticated lifeforms," she added, looking at the gawking faces with disdain,"you seem to have left your manners in deep space."

"You ––– you…" Kan began.

"Croaked," Minir muttered. "At least, I wish you did."

"I thought you became a firework," Jahn Pal said.

"My fleas like how you smell," Kien said, smiling as a cloud of insects buzzed toward her.

"You ––– you…" Terry stammered.

"You…_you," _Andre continued.

"You, you –––"

"GOOD!" Aedan shrieked, finding his voice again.

Kan raked his fingers through his hair. "Wow, Andora, for a second there we all actually thought you had ––––"

"Spontaneously combusted," Sai'wer said.

Andora looked indignant. "Honestly, I perceive that your lack of faith in my abilities is disturbingly pathetic. All I did was levitate from the cockpit a microsecond before my craft became nonexistent."

Captain Enik sighed and shook his head. "Well, whatever you did, glad to have you back in one piece. Commander Lee, do you copy?" He asked into his wrist comlink.

"Copy, Captain. What was that explosion?"

"Andora's ship. She's fine. Preparing to execute the mission. Over and out."

"Give the signal when you've hit all the points. Be careful, Captain."

"All right, Wicked Men and Andora," Kan said. "We'll split up into groups of four. Each group will have a designated amount of firepower according to the size of their target. Our job is to sabotage the shield generator, the auto turret defense mainframe, the life support, and the engine cooling tanks. The command bridge, comm, and sensor relay are being taking care of by bombers."

"WICKED!" the Wicked Club screamed.

"What are the designated groups, Captain?" Andora wanted to know.

"Okay let's see: Aedan, Terry, Kien, Minir, Na'thin, Andre, Jahn Pal, Sai'wer, me, and you," Kan said, counting on his fingers. "That's ten. Make two groups of two and two groups of three. Andre, Aedan, and Terry, your job is to sabotage the shield generator. Take five time bombs with you; that should be a sufficient amount. Don't waste any, got it?"

"Yes, sir," Terry said, saluting.

"No," Aedan said stubbornly. "Me no want to destroy GOOD shield generator."

"Well, what do you want to destroy?" Kan asked, exasperated.

"I want to destroy GOOD life support."

"Fine. You guys can destroy the life support. Put away two of the time bombs," Kan said, irritated. "Minir, Jahn Pal and Sai'wer, you will take out the auto turret defenses."

"I should've known I would be GOODLY paired up with the idiots," Minir grumbled, stuffing two time bombs into his survival pack.

"Kien and Na'thin, you need to get all the way to the back of the cruiser to destroy the engine cooling tanks," Kan continued. "You'll need about four bombs. Andora and I will take the shield generator."

Aedan folded his arms. "No."

Kan looked at him, surprised. "What's the problem now?"

"Me no want to be with WICKED Terry and Andre," Aedan said. "Me want to be with GOOD twin."

"What?" Andora spluttered.

"GOOD!" Terry and Andre yelled, offended.

"No, WICKEDS, me executing 899 270ANNOYANDORA," Aedan whispered to his chagrined comrades. "You WICKEDLY go on without me. I can take the GOOD easily."

"WICKED," they whispered, grinning devilishly.

For once, Kan did not seem surprised with Aedan's bizarre request. "Well, I think I understand how you feel right now," he conceded. "You may go with Andora to destroy the life support. Andre and Terry can help me take out the shield generator."

"No."

Kan's eyebrows shot up. "_NO?_"

Aedan grinned. "Me want to WICKEDLY sabotage the shield generator."

The Wicked Club exploded into fiendish giggles as Kan slapped a hand to his forehead.

* * * * *

__"Now that we're WICKED, we never take a bath. Now that we're WICKED, we get an F in math!" Aedan sang as he, Minir, the cousins, and his twin sister made their way to the systems room. The shield generator and the auto turret defense mainframe were located in the same part of the ship, so the two groups were traveling together. Minir fussed and Andora pouted as Jahn Pal, Sai'wer and the Wicked King continued screaming the Wicked Club theme song in an enemy ship.

"Now that we're WICKED…"

"We smell really bad," Sai'wer said gleefully.

"Now that we're GOOD…"

"WICKED," Minir corrected Jahn Pal.

"…WICKED…"

"We make Adriaan really mad!" Aedan finished.

"Desist producing that intrusive clamor," Andora said. "We are within the opposition's territory."

"Yeah, Aedan, why can't you ever be WICKEDLY quiet?" Minir asked.

Aedan grinned. "Now that we're WICKED, we always scream and shout!" he sang.

"Now that we're WICKED…" the cousins chanted, not missing a beat.

"Minir and GOOD old Andora are the only ones who can pout!"

"Now that we're WICKED, we don't wash our clothes and socks."

"Gross." Minir shuddered.

"Now that we're WICKED, we cheer only for the Aquahawks!"

"Ugh!" Andora yelled.

Plan 899 270ANNOYANDORA was working. "Now that we're WICKED we disobey Yoda. Now that we're WICKED…"

"We got GOOD gramma."

"_WICKED_ gramma."

"Whatever."

They were nearing their destination. Suddenly, a door slid open in front of them, and five battle droids ran out. They turned and noticed the Jedi Padawans.

"Intruder alert. Drop your weapons, Jedi!"

_Zzzzzz. Pow! Vroom, vroom! Shhhhhhzzzz._

In microseconds, the droids were reduced to a smoking pile of rubble. Stepping over the mess, Aedan beckoned to his companions. "Come, WICKEDS and GOOD. We're here!"

Just then, laser fire ripped the durasteel underneath his feet. Sidestepping the blasts, Aedan reactivated his lightsaber and held it in front of him protectively, deflecting the bolts. "Whoa, an auto turret! WICKED!"

"Someone get it!" Minir hissed, standing protectively in front of the whimpering cousins.

"No GOOD worries, old man," Aedan said, leaping up and swiping at the turret. The laser fire stopped abruptly. "I've got us covered. Hey, where's the GOOD?"

"Over here!" There was the sound of other auto turrets firing at something. "Assist…never mind, my adversaries have been dispatched."

"Boohoo! We don't like sabotage!" the cousins sobbed.

"Shut up, babies!" Minir screamed. "Stop crying!"

Sai'wer sniffled. "Why should we? You are rude and never ask us nicely."

"Well, why _should_ I ask nicely? Am I not allowed to have some WICKED peace?"

"W-w-w-w-a-a-a-a-h-h-h-h-h-h," Jahn Pal bawled.

"Hey, GOODS: Now that we're WICKED…" Aedan began.

Jahn Pal stopped in mid-tantrum. "We ––– we –––"

"Every game we've won," Aedan reminded him.

"N-n-o-w-w th-that w-we're G-g-g-WICKED," Sai'wer said, smiling through his tears.

"We plan to kill Obi-wan!" Aedan and Jahn Pal screamed.

_"Aedan!_" Andora scolded, appearing around the corner. "Do not think such depraved, sadistic thoughts. You are teaching these poor, impressionable little boys criminal behavior."

But the three singers were beyond caring. "Now that we're WICKED, we love bloody brawls!"

Minir began setting the time bombs around the auto defense mainframe.

"Five, seven, four," Jahn Pal counted.

"Three, fifty, sixteen," Sai'wer continued.

"_Zero!_" they shouted, diving for cover as the mainframe exploded.

"Now that we're WICKED…"

"We demolish the Temple walls!" the cousins shrieked.

"Children, please desist!" Andora begged.

"Commander Lee, the auto turret defense mainframe has WICKEDLY been destroyed," Aedan said into his comlink.

"Goo ––– Wicked. Go take out the shield generator next, so that my crew can begin bombing the sensor and comm relays."

"WICKED!" Aedan pulled out the time bombs from his survival pack and ran through a door near the auto turret control room. A throbbing sound assaulted his ears as he ran down the short flight of steps to the shield generator. Blue fingers of electricity pulsated from the transparisteel container in the center of the room. Aedan and his twin efficiently set the time bombs around the generator, while Minir and the cousins stood guard by the door.

"Ten, seven, two, nine, one, five-and-a-half…" the cousins chanted.

"Hands up, Republic scum!" a metallic voice said. A squad of droids appeared in the doorway.

Jahn Pal and Sai'wer put their hands up. "We have our hands up," they said.

"No!" Aedan yelled, activating his lightsaber. "Die, GOODS!"

Three lightsabers quickly chopped through the intruders. Aedan set the last bomb and began to run. "Now that we're WICKED, we love to spar. Now that we're WICKED…"

"What rhymes with 'spar' Sai'wer?" Jahn Pal was asking.

"'Grumpy'? 'Bad'? 'Cute'?" Sai'wer suggested.

"We drink, _we drink –––_" Aedan reminded them.

"We drink grog in a bar!" they decided.

"Scandalous! And at your age, too!" Andora exclaimed.

"Now that we're WICKED…" Aedan laughed.

"I'm going insane!" Minir bellowed.

_ Boom._

"Now that we're WICKED…"

They went sailing out the door on a hot wave of energy. Aedan rolled to his feet and continued running as fire poured into the room. Sirens screamed in his ears as they fled down the hall.

"So what? We're not to blame!" Aedan shouted over the noise.

"Commander Lee, the shields are down. You may commence with your attack," Andora said.

"'Commence'?" Jahn Pal wondered.

"A sophisticated word for anti-procrastination," Andora informed him.

"So what do we do now?" Sai'wer asked.

Just then the clank of battle machines marching came to their ears. The first line of a small army of battle droids appeared around the corner, blasters raised.

"Run," Minir said.

"Negotiate," Andora insisted.

"Surrender!" a droid suggested.

"We surrender!" the cousins screamed, groveling on the floor.

"Fight, GOODS!" Aedan yelled, diving headlong into the mass of enemies. He began plying his weapon in all directions, the acrid smell of smoking circuits and severed droid limbs filling his nostrils. The other Padawans joined him, cutting down anything that stood in their way. But even Aedan didn't dare pause to check their progress; using the Force, they could all sense that even as they destroyed the killer machines, more and more were pouring in.

"The assistance of our comrades is imperative!" Andora shouted above the noise of the battle.

"No!" Aedan called back, slicing through the control panel of a super battle droid. "They need to hit their targets first! We have to WICKEDLY give them some more time!"

"We're dying!" Sai'wer and Jahn Pal whined.

"_Dying is for GOODS_!"

Then Aedan's comlink signaled.

For regular beings, a battle is not an opportune time to answer a comlink signal. But Aedan was not a regular being. So, using his left hand to continue the fight, he answered the comlink with his free hand. "What is it, GOOD?"

"We're done over here. Kay Lee just contacted me and said her bombers are almost finished. Go to the rendezvous point if you're finished," Kan said.

"This is not a WICKEDLY opportune time for us to meet you right now," Aedan said, chopping a droid in half.

"What? Aedan, what are you up to now? This ship is going to blow any second. Do you want to be caught inside it?"

"We really don't have a WICKED choice right now."

"What do you me –––"

Just then, Jahn Pal leaped in front of Aedan and swung his saber recklessly in all directions. Aedan had to jump back quickly to avoid getting hit, but the lightsaber swiped through the center of Aedan's wrist comlink. Kan's voice was abruptly cut off by static as the whole device crumbled from Aedan's hand.

"Oops," Jahn Pal said, not stopping in his crazy movements.

"Idiot," Aedan hissed. Suddenly, the anger left his face and was replaced by horror as he watched his unobservant sister get in the path of Jahn Pal's bright blue lightsaber. "You GOOD! Get out of the way!" he yelled, lunging forward and shoving into Andora. She lost her balance and tumbled facedown into a mass of twisted droid limbs.

Aedan couldn't stop the momentum of his tackle. He stumbled over his fallen twin and fell toward Jahn Pal.

"GOOD! Stop swinging that thing before you kill Aedan!" Minir screamed. "Aedan, what the heck are you GOODLY doing?"

"Huh?" Jahn Pal changed the direction of his swing, narrowly missing Aedan's head. Instead, it sliced straight through the bone of Aedan's left wrist. Pain shot up his arm and down his spine as he watched his dismembered hand fly through the air and land on top of Sai'wer's head. Aedan collapsed to his knees, but refused to give in to his suffering and fall all the way. Minir shouted in disbelief and jumped in front of his King to deflect the laser bolts designated to kill Aedan. Sai'wer picked up the hand, puzzled at its sudden appearance. Jahn Pal dropped his weapon and screamed. His cousin, suddenly realizing what had happened, also dropped what he was holding, fainting dead away.

Aedan watched it all in the clarity of slow motion. He stared at the stump where his hand had originally been attached to his body, half-fascinated. A dull haze clouded his eyes, and he wondered if he was croaking. Was that why he had felt such a sense of dread that morning? Had he somehow known that he would die here? But WICKEDS didn't _really_ croak, did they? Wasn't that his motto? _Only GOODS die; WICKEDS do not croak. _Not even if their limbs got chopped off.

Comforted by the knowledge of knowing that, since he was WICKED, he would not croak, he fell forward on top of his sister and lost consciousness.


	10. Council Meeting One

chapter 10

Adriaan rubbed her sweaty palms on the front of her tunic and pretended not to be nervous. The Council had called a general meeting. This morning, the different Jedi officers would give full reports on the war. Adriaan would be one of the last to give her report, because she had the most recent news. It would probably also be one of the lengthiest reviews, for a lot more had taken place on Zylxx than had been expected.

So she sat there and brooded while the other Commanders gave their long, dreary details from far off systems. Of course, she cared about what was happening, but she felt it a waste of her time to be sitting here in a Jedi Master Council Meeting. She shouldn't be listening to news, she should be _making _the news, out in the Kiyp belt with her Apprentice, Kan. So many people were counting on her; she could only hope that she would not let them all down.

Just then, she noticed the unusual silence that had settled on the Council. A holo of General Obi-wan Kenobi flickered and seemed to be looking at Adriaan. "Have we any reports on the Hai revolt near the Syleeto system?"

"None," Stass Ali said. "But Commander ell Talaan has just arrived from the capital of the system."

"So soon?" Kenobi asked. "I had thought that the invasion of the Kiyp Belt would take longer than that –––"

"She has appointed her Apprentice to the rank of a commanding officer," Ki-Adi-Mundi explained. "And she has left a substitute Commander to carry out the invasion until her return."

"You are wounded, ell Talaan?"

"No, Master," Adriaan said, straightening in her chair. "I came on urgent business concerning two Force-adepts I found in the system. It appears that they were trained by…"

"Another time, Commander," Mace Windu interrupted briskly. "Right now, we are more interested in your reports from that area."

"Well, these Force-sensitives _are _the most crucial part of my report. I couldn't have succeeded in the mission if it hadn't been for –––"

"'If' there is not," Yoda reminded her. "Reports of the battle, we request."

"Casualties?" inquired Mace Windu.

She clicked into a military mode. "Over half of my force was diminished by the second week," Adriaan admitted. "But reinforcements from Kamino arrived two days ago. I inspected them before I left."

"I am not familiar with the Syleeto system," Master Kenobi said. "I have not heard any reports from my outpost."

"Exactly one month after the war began, I and my Apprentice were assigned to retake the capital planet, Zylxx," Adriaan explained. "While it is itself a barren world, it is an urban paradise, relying almost completely on the system's asteroid belt for organic supplies."

"Main industry?"

"Plastoid components. The Kiyp Belt manufactures blaster crystals, so as you can see, the CIS had a good reason to invade…"

"Yes. It's the perfect factory site," Kenobi said.

"Immediately upon my arrival, I did not note anything of significance," Adriaan continued. "It was not until I had a run-in with a CIS scout that I discovered that a Separatist agent had released a deadly virus into the city. It appeared to me that the Queen's commanding body guard had engineered the planetary government's decision to send an excursion to an uncharted mountain range. The scientist that returned was carrying a volcanic microscopic life-form that breaks down the protein filaments in muscle. The enemy's plan was to weaken the planet's resistance and to drive the Republic presence from the system, but this I could not allow. So I continued the battle while my Apprentice continued an investigation of the virus in the city."

"You deliberately put your Apprentice in a quarantined sector?" Obi-wan asked incredulously.

"It was chance that brought about this arrangement," she said. "My Apprentice was not able to adapt to the difference in atmosphere, so he was hospitalized while I was sent out to the ground troops. I was contacted about the virus when it was too late for me to turn back."

"Difficult, your decision was," Yoda said. "Judge you, we will not."

Adriaan nodded, grateful for the Council's understanding. It had been one of the toughest situations she had been in since her Padawan days. "Thanks to the cooperative efforts of the Andora Kenobi, Kan Enik, and the former Apprentice of Master Okiwa, the crew in Hÿÿ discovered an antidote to Actin 3 before it achieved its full purpose of effectively wiping out the entire Zylxxian population. In the meantime, I and the Wicked Club had been lured to the last CIS stronghold to negotiate 'surrender terms' according to the Separatist General. Unfortunately, it was a trap, and I was immobilized. I was being offered shipments of antidote in exchange for the planet, even while my Apprentice was discovering the true cure to the virus. Luckily, the negotiations were cut short when Kan arrived."

"The Wicked Club? I did not realize, Commander, that you trained multiple Apprentices," Adi Gallia said.

"Surely it would take far more than one Jedi Knight to control Aedan and his cohorts," Obi-wan agreed.

"A test case, ell Talaan is," Yoda said.

"She has always been, as we all undoubtedly know," Mace Windu said, staring pointedly at her.

Adriaan struggled to keep her composure. She knew that he was referring to her dark Force sensitivity. Mace had never approved of her being allowed to remain in the Jedi Temple. "According to the Jedi Code, she is a violation," he had said. "_A master may not teach Force skills to a character who has any Dark Side points. It would be wrong to teach Force skills to someone so tainted._" That was ten years ago. Apparently, his opinion had not altered since then.

"Unique, the Wicked Club is," Yoda said. "Contemplated, we have, of their needing special training."

"I agree," Obi-wan said. "My brother is far too uncontrollable. His twin, however, is a favorable choice for an Apprentice."

"The boy has exceptional skill," Mace conceded.

"Much like your own Apprentice, he is," Yoda told Obi-wan.

"Andora is attentive and has a focused mind," Aayla Secura said. "But she does not possess the talent Aedan has."

"It seems talent is the only gift he has," Obi-wan said gloomily. "He lacks the characteristics of a Jedi. Why is he being made a Padawan?"

"Too easy, we fear, the classes are," Yoda said.

"We think that is part of the reason he has such terrible class attendance," Ki-Adi said.

"Boredom? That cannot be the only reason," Adriaan said.

"Besides, why should Aedan be rewarded for missing classes? In my opinion, that would only encourage other students to skip classes, too," Obi-wan said.

"We trust that if we decide to let Commander ell Talaan take the first Padawan Clan, she will know how to treat her Apprentices," Mace Windu said, closing the subject. "And now, we will discuss what new Jedi teams we will send to recompense the loss of the Hai system…"

When the morning session finally ended, Adriaan's back felt stiff from sitting still for so long. She wearily followed the other Jedi out the door, dreading the afternoon session which would take place in two hours. What should she do until then? Eat? She had lost her appetite. Sleep? _Yeah, and snooze right through until tomorrow morning_, she thought. Give Klamin some more training? First she had to find him.

She didn't have far to look. Klamin was one of the tallest beings at the Temple, and anyway, he was standing right outside the Council Chambers, staring at the faces of the departing Jedi, searching for a familiar face. His eyes lit up when he saw her coming.

"Adriaan! Oops, I mean –––" A few of the Jedi shot him dirty looks. "––– _Master _ell Talaan, I've been waiting for you. How was the meeting? Have they decided to make me and Heatrian Apprentices?"

"We never broached the subject," Adriaan said abruptly. "I have to arrange a private audience during the afternoon session. This was just a war briefing."

"Oh." He looked crestfallen. "I didn't know."

"I didn't, either, or I wouldn't have gone. But no matter," she said briskly. "I have a few hours before the afternoon session if you and Heatrian want another lesson."

Klamin's face clouded. "Um, yeah, that'd be great, except there's one problem –––"

"What, you're GOODLY out already? When do I get to be a WICKED Apprentice?" Heatrian demanded, appearing around the corner.

"They haven't decided," Klamin told him.

"Pah!" Heatrian scoffed. "I suppose they're just jealous of my WICKEDNESS. They don't know talent when they WICKEDLY see it."

"They'll decide soon, don't worry," Adriaan said hastily.

"They'd better," Heatrian said huffily. "We've been bored stiff. Klamin's eaten all the man-food in the kitchens, and I just got GOODLY thrown out of the halls for vandalism."

"He was eating one of the columns," Klamin explained.

Adriaan closed her eyes, trying not to notice the throbbing in her brain. This was going to be an ongoing issue. These two were too rambunctious to be off on their own for hours at a time. She could ground them to their rooms, but who knew what damage they could accomplish within a confined space? If these meetings went on much longer, the Temple would soon be falling around her ears. She had to do something to keep Klamin and Heatrian occupied while she sat at the Council Meetings. But what?

She opened her eyes and smiled for the first time in hours. "Don't worry, I have the perfect thing for you two to do," she said.


	11. Clones vs Younglings

chapter 11

He felt dumb, wearing the plain Jedi workout tunic with a training saber clipped to his utility belt. But he felt even dumber standing in the middle of a classroom full of little kids that were squirming and giggling behind his back.

A Lethan female Twi'lek was speaking to Adriaan, occasionally shooting appraising glances in Klamin and Heatrian's direction. Klamin shapeshifted into a Kel Dor nervously. He didn't like the look of that Jedi. Her mouth was too thin; it was like a hard line cutting across her face. She made Adriaan's frown of concentration look like an angelic smile.

"How long do you think it GOODLY takes to get two Padawans signed up for a stupid class?" Heatrian hissed.

"Long enough," Klamin whispered back.

"I hate how these kids are GOODLY staring at us," Heatrian complained. "It makes me feel like an UNWICKED lab experiment."

"Just relax."

The Pyronite sighed and leaned against the wall. A hissing, bubbling sound, like water hitting a hot surface, suddenly filled the room. Heatrian seemed to sink farther and farther into the wall, as if he was leaning against a soft pillow instead of a hard duracrete structure. Some of the younger students began to scream in alarm as molten metal poured onto the floor.

"…They will need a lesson in self-restraint, and the Pyronite needs to learn Defense II," Adriaan was saying. "Oh…would you excuse me for a moment, Master Malub? Heatrian, get your lazy carcass off that wall!"

Heatrian looked startled, but nevertheless straightened quickly. The wall stopped melting immediately. He looked around in confusion at the shocked faces around him. "What?"

Adriaan sighed. "Heatrian, please pay more attention when you lean against flammable surfaces. It seems they were not instructed in self-awareness, also," she said aside to Master Malub.

The Twi'lek flicked her gaze over them. "We will soon reverse that."

Klamin squirmed. He did not like the tone of her voice.

"I do not doubt that you will instruct them to the best of your ability," Adriaan said gratefully, bowing. "Keep them working until I return from the afternoon session. It shouldn't take long. Thank you."

Adriaan turned to Klamin and Heatrian. "Boys, this is your trainer for the afternoon. Her name is Katma Malub, but you will call her Master Malub. Listen to what she says, and above all," she said, leaning closer to them, "don't cause any trouble, or you will deal with me later_._"

Heatrian spat lava out of the side of his mouth contemptuously.

"Uh, is that a threat?" Klamin joked nervously.

She looked at him for so long he felt like shrinking down to a ferrocrete lizard. "I'm afraid it is. Now, have a _great _time, kids."

Then she was gone.

_Kid? Is that what she thinks of me as? She can't be that much older than me, _he thought, _Maybe she's not even that much _better.

_Shut up, Klamin, _he told himself, _I think that that's what she _wants _people to think: that she's not that good. Then she catches them off-balance when she reveals her true power. Never underestimate a Jedi._

"All right, class, attention!" Katma said, clapping her hands. Silence immediately filled the room. The Younglings immediately ran to their designated places on the mat and stood at attention before their trainer. Klamin and Heatrian awkwardly followed them, Heatrian being very careful not to spill any lava on the floor.

Master Malub nodded. "Today will be different from the regular classes," she began. "First, because you all ready to move to a harder set in the physical training. Today, we will begin with battle combat situations, which means that you will be given the opportunity to fight as you would in a full-scale battle."

The Younglings wriggled excitedly.

"Will we fight each other, Master Malub?" A young Bith asked.

She smiled. "Perhaps. We have many different battle situations set up."

"I have been in a battle, great Master," a human girl piped up. "It was fun but it was also scary because lots of Jedi went flying through the air with each cannon blast it was most violent and I got really scared when this spidery creature started to chase me but my friend Kan saved me and –––"

"Silence, young Jordin," Katma said. "Just because you are a former Apprentice doesn't mean that you are excused from this training exercise. Please remember your training and control yourself. Set a good example to the other students, like your friend, Marya Yon."

Marya, a dark-haired Zabrak, stuck out her lower lip in a scowl that was even fiercer than before.

_Kan. Jordin. Kan. Jordin. _The names echoed inside his mind. Kan. Could Jordin know the same Kan he knew? Jordin. Adriaan knew a girl named Jordin. A former Apprentice with red hair. Was it her –––?

He turned around, searching for a glimpse of fiery red amongst the white tunics.

Yes. There was a girl, a bit taller than the rest, standing off to one side. She had a pointy chin and a smiling face. And bright red hair. Her eyes looked like they had once been blue, but they had deepened to a sea-green. She looked exactly like the forlorn little girl at the funeral that Adriaan had tried to comfort. Except something was bothering Klamin. Her voice had sounded so happy…she babbled like Andre, too. If her Master had just died, shouldn't she be a bit more sober? But perhaps that was just one of those things about Jedi he did not understand.

He glanced at Heatrian too see if he recognized the name. The Pyronite looked at him and grinned.

"Secondly, Commander ell Talaan has recently returned from a Mid-Rim siege with two Force-adepts, and she has requested that I train them for the day. Their names are Klamin and Heatrian J'Oli, and I expect all of you to treat them with due courtesy. Now, let us begin."

She opened the door that led out to the hallway. "Follow me to the first combat area."

As they filed out, Klamin shifted to the back of the line so that he was behind Jordin.

* * *

"Heatrian J'Oli, blue. Klamin J'Oli, red. Jordin Skraps, blue team. Ahenti Kebalo, red team. Marya Yon, blue. Ojolok-moon, red," Master Katma called out, handing each Jedi student a shiny vest that corresponded with the color of their teams. Klamin had decided to keep his adolescent human form to help him blend in, so fitting into his vest was no problem. He gazed with longing at the blue group, where Jordin and Heatrian were standing. As the tall Zabrak girl Katma had called Marya strapped on her blue-colored vest, Jordin ran up and threw her arms around her. "Yay! Marya, you're on my team!" She took an obviously reluctant Marya and drew her into the aqua-dressed crowd.

Pretty soon it was apparent that Heatrian was going to be an ongoing problem. When he touched the blue garment, a nauseating odor of burning synthetic shimmer-silk filled the air. Several of the Youngling gagged and ran for cover as Heatrian attempted to put out the fire by stifling it in his cooling hands. Smoke billowed out and clouded the Pyronite from their vision.

Finally, the smoke cleared away. Heatrian stood, holding a scrap of charred material that had once been the vest.

They all stared at him, speechless. The Pyronite's nostrils flared as he lifted his head up. "Ah," he inhaled. "What a delightfully WICKED aroma."

Katma was running out of that fabled Jedi patience. "Heatrian J'Oli, I'm afraid that we are going to have to find some other way to identify you by your team color," she said politely, but her voice sounded a bit strained. "Your epidermal tissue is red. Perhaps you don't have to wear a vest. Switch to the red team."

As Heatrian moved toward Klamin's group, Katma turned to the red team, contemplating. She pointed at Klamin. "You, Klamin J'Oli. Switch with your…brother. Exchange your red vest for a blue one, please."

Klamin and Heatrian exchanged gazes. _Wow, they really don't want us put together, _Klamin realized as he put on a blue vest and headed toward Jordin's team. _I wonder why._

"Klamin is not my brother," Heatrian informed Katma. "He's a Shi'Odo. His family all croaked."

"We didn't need to know that, Heatrian," Klamin said sharply. What his friend had said sent a knife cutting through his heart and mind as he remembered that terrible day…

Master Malub looked stern. "Klamin J'Oli, I know that in the 'regular universe' feeling anger is part of daily life. At the Jedi Temple, however, that sort of behavior is unacceptable. If you wish to participate in the lessons, you must take care to remember your place."

Someone sniggered; no doubt it was Heatrian. His former slave had changed in the past three weeks, metamorphosing from a quiet, bookish, sedentary creature to a fun-loving boy with an annoying sense of humor. Klamin felt himself shapeshift into a female Lethan twi'lek. It was the form he took when he felt embarrassed.

Katma's crimson face grew even redder. "It is also not customary for students to mock their Masters."

Klamin suddenly realized his mistake and shapeshifted back into a human boy. "I'm sorry," he said. "But I like to shapeshift into something ugly when my negative emotions get the best of me."

Master Malub stared at him for a long time. Then she turned back to her list. "Teeks-Ti, red team. Nic Modd, blue…"

Klamin turned to his group and heartily joined in the snickering.

"Hey, man, that was hilarious," a young human boy said, shrugging into his blue vest as he joined the group

"She got burned," the Duros called Teeks-ti agreed, passing by on his way to the opposite team.

"Beat you later, Teeks," the boy said, waving.

"Save your bragging for next year, when I'm graduated and out of your way, Nic," Teeks called back. He melted back into the red-colored crowd.

"You have two minutes to plan your attack," Master Malub announced. "Then you will be led to the battle ground to begin."

The opposing team nodded impatiently and huddled closer together, their voices buzzing with excitement.

The girl called Jordin immediately designated herself as the team captain. "Teeks is going to influence all of their strategies," she began. "He's one of those boys who think they are superior to everyone else when they really aren't. I know this Apprentice named Kan he is the exact opposite of Teeks except sometimes he's a jerk and that's not very nice so –––"

"Will you just get on with it, Master Chatterbox?" the Zabrak girl said. Klamin winced at the girl's tone. _Good grief. she sounds like Minir._

"Oh, Marya," Jordin said gaily. "There is no reason to be so rude and interrupt. We must be unlike Teeks and _deliberate. _That's a fancy word for –––"

"Saying too much and doing too little," Marya said. "A commonly used adjective to describe Jordin Skraps."

"––– Taking our time," Jordin finished. "As I was saying, from what I can see we have two advantages. First, me and Marya are former Padawans, so we've been in situations like these. We know the drill; we know what can happen."

"Like our Masters getting killed," Marya said bitterly. "This is so lame. I should be out there in the war, helping; or even better, giving up my life to save the Republic. I shouldn't be here doing these stupid _baby _lessons."

"Marya, if you are not going to say anything constructive, please do not participate in our discussion," Jordin said crisply. "It is very rude to say such ––– such ––– _rude _things…now, where was I?"

"Talk about 'constructive discussion'" Marya remarked sarcastically.

Jordin shot a venomous look at her. "Oh yes, I was talking about advantages. We also have tonfa saber artists on our team." She nodded at Klamin. "The new kid and Marya."

"My name is Klamin, and I'm not a kid, kid."

"They can lead the assault," Jordin continued, ignoring his correction.

"But I want to lead," a Youngling complained.

"Thirty seconds left," Katma said, glancing at her chrono.

"Goodness! Time certainly seems to fly," Jordin said. "Why, it seems it was only yesterday when I first –––"

"Look, Jordin, sorry to interrupt," Klamin broke in, "but I've got an idea."

Several pairs of eyes swerved toward him expectantly. One thing he had to admire about these Jedi was that they were always so _focused. _Except for Jordin and the Wicked Club; but they seemed to be the type that never paid any attention to what anyone else said anyway.

"Another example of a rude adolescent male," Jordin sighed. "Seriously, it must be a disease or something that makes boys so inconsiderate…"

Klamin tapped his foot impatiently.

"Okay, what is your idea?" Jordin asked meekly.

He morphed into a Bothan. "Ambush."

The battle area was an empty office building marked off for reconstruction. The red and blue teams were led to opposite parts of the building. The objective of the exercise was to capture the enemy's "base" ––– a cubicle marked off by a holographic of the team flag. To capture the base, you had to dismantle the hologram and plug in your own team color into the program. Each team had three bases. The first team to capture all six was the winner. Another way to win the game was a much simpler but less practical strategy: knocking out all the other opponents by scoring a hit on their torso with a training lightsaber.

Heatrian winked at Klamin as he walked off with his teammates. "Red, red, we're gonna win, and send you all off to bed!" he chanted.

"Oh yeah? Blue, blue, we rule, we're gonna beat you!" Nic, a human boy with lively brown eyes, shouted back.

"Red, red, we're gonna win…"

"Blue, blue, we're going to beat…"

"No one," a new voice said.

Klamin stopped in mid-crawl and peeked around the cubicle enclosure. A small figure in a black suit and a shimmery gold vest stepped out from the shadows and aimed a blaster at the singers. "Gold team, attack!"

There was a low whine of jetpacks as a swarm of gold soldiers dropped to the floor, blasters at ready.

"Uh, what's going on here?" Teeks asked.

"GOODS, get out of our way," Heatrian said.

"Vagabonds, I am sorry to interrupt your unlawful intrusion upon Senate property, but we are Jedi students in the middle of an important drill," Jordin said.

"I know," the black-and-gold figure answered.

Then he fired.

Jordin's training saber swung out and deflected the laser bolt harmlessly into the wall, but the attacker had already taken advantage of the distraction by firing at Nic. The shot went wild, however, and only succeeded in hitting the boy in the foot.

Nic dropped to the floor, stunned. "Ai!" he yelped, clutching his leg in agony. "Help! I've been hit! I'm dying! No! Get a medpack! Get me to a bacta tank! I'm too young to die!"

"Relax, young Nic Modd," Katma said, appearing. "The blasters are set on training mode."

Nic stopped screaming and hastily got up to his feet, brushing his tunic sheepishly. "Oh. I knew that," he said carelessly.

"No doubt," the new opponent said.

"Training mode? Gold team? What the WICKED ferrocrete lizards is going on?" Heatrian asked.

Katma folded her arms. "Do you expect to know everything about the battle beforehand?"

"Yes. I know _everything._"

"No doubt," Malub said coldly.

The gold figure lowered his weapon and saluted smartly. "I am Ember, Captain of the 503rd legion," he said. "This is my elite squad. We've just arrived from Kamino to complete our combat training with a Jedi mentor."

"Clones?" Jordin looked bewildered. "But I thought it wasn't customary for the Temple to train clones. What happened to the training facilities on Kamino?"

"We were a special order," Ember said. "We are to be the personal legion for a Jedi Commander."

"Aren't you a little on the short side?" Marya questioned.

Ember shrugged. "We have three more years to mature."

"CT-1253, you are in the middle of a battle," Master Katma said. "Your force is twice as big as each of the opposing teams, but I would not advise you to stay in one position for too long."

"Understood, honored Master," Ember said, snapping into battle formation. "Skipp, Rez, command 65-GA. Troops! Attack the Jedi!"

"Don't give 'em a chance, kids," Teeks said, activating his lightsaber. "Charge them!"

The room exploded into movement. The three colors swirled and blended into a hopeless mass. Shafts of blue, purple, green, yellow, and orange lights exploded all over the place as the students simultaneously activated their lightsabers and charged at the gold team. Klamin began crawling away from the battle, shutting his ears out to the deafening roar as he concentrated on the task ahead. He had had about twenty seconds to outline his plan to the fellow members of the team. He was to separate from the group before the battle had even begun and locate the systems mainframe. He knew there were emergency autoturrets installed in office buildings as a safeguard. He knew a way to tweak the prismatic crystals inside the autoturrets so that there was less energy emitted into the laser bolt. In other words, he was going to power down the blasts so that they were just harmless laser beams. After he did that, he would activate the perimeter defenses around their bases. The red team would be pinned down by the unexpected attack.

"Yikes! Ojolok, did you have to hit so hard?" a blue team member yelled.

"Hana," Katma said. "You have been defeated, so you can't participate in the battle anymore. Go and wait with the other 'casualties' in office 21A. That's the neutral zone."

"Yes, Master," Hana sighed.

Klamin crawled all the way to the turbolift and stood up, punching in the code for the ground level. The doors squealed open, and he hopped in. No one had noticed his absence yet. He was still in the clear.

The turbolift sank half a meter before coming to a jarring halt that threw Klamin onto his face.

"What the –––" Klamin jiggled the sensor. Was the turbolift jammed? _It would be just my luck, _Klamin thought as he withdrew his lightsaber to cut open the bottom escape hatch. _Let's just hope there's not much of a drop to the ground level._

Just then, an orange-red flash of light cut the air in front of his face. Klamin blinked, then slid his gaze over to the turbolift doors. Someone was cutting open the lift with a lightsaber.

He dropped to the floor and plunged his lightsaber blade down to the hilt in the durasteel floor. His training saber wasn't as effective as a regular lightsaber, but it was hot enough to cut through most metal surfaces if you held it in one place long enough. Klamin could only hope the floor was thinner than the wall.

The lightsaber shaft withdrew, exposing a long, jagged hole in the durasteel. Two orange eyes gleamed at him from the outside. "Hi, GOOD. Thinking of deserting already?"

_Can't let him know what I'm doing. _"Well, I never was the heroic type," he said, guiding his white blade through the floor. The metal slowly peeled back, creating small hole.

There was a hiss as Heatrian plunged his lightsaber into another spot on the wall. "Ah, yes, now I can see you," he said, withdrawing the weapon and looking through the two peepholes he had made. "You appear to be GOODLY stuck. Here, allow me to WICKEDLY get you out."

The crackling, bubbling sound of metal being melted penetrated the silence. Heatrian had just been messing around with the lightsaber. They both knew how easy it was for the Pyronite to break through any surface with his lava body.

"Come _on_," Klamin begged his lightsaber. "Almost done –––"

"Too late, GOODY." Heatrian burst through the door, magma spewing in all directions. The smell of hot metal made Klamin gag, and he morphed into a womp rat so that he could withstand the sharp odor.

The Pyronite advanced, his training lightsaber protruding from his stomach. One thing that was unique about Heatrian was that his lightsaber had no handle. He kept the lightsaber components, which were covered with an organic substance that could withstand the intense heat of his body, inside his bowels. To activate the weapon, he shifted the lava inside his body so that the parts were assembled. Once the lightsaber activated, he could move it to one of his limbs to wield it. Now he held it in his left hand as he leaped for Klamin, who quickly scampered to the hole in the door.

"Not so fast, GOOD." Klamin felt himself in his rat state being lifted by a rock-solid fist and suspended head downward in the air. He watched dizzily as the orangish blade came cleaving in the air toward him.

"You're out…a-a-a-a-h-h-h-h!"

He felt himself released and he flipped in empty space, swiftly shapeshifting into a Jawa and turning himself right-side up so that he would land on his feet. To his surprise, he kept on falling. It wasn't until he had dropped ten meters that he discovered what happened. Heatrian had entered the turbolift, forgetting to cool down his body. The heat had melted and enlarged the hole Klamin had made, and they had fallen through.

"G-g-g-g-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-d-d-d-d!!!" Heatrian screamed, volcanic material shooting in all directions, singing Klamin. There was a dull thud and a hiss, and Klamin looked up to see Heatrian two meters above him, his arms welded into the interior walls of the lift.

Klamin saw his chance to break free from his opponent. Saluting at the Pyronite in farewell, he changed into a Lightningite, dropped the last ten meters, rolled to his feet, and began running as fast as he could in the general direction of the systems mainframe.

At first, he was distracted from his present task. He was confused. Why had Heatrian let him go like that? He could've continued the chase, and instead, he had clung to the walls of the turbolift shaft like a monkey-lizard.

Then he grinned, remembering. Heatrian had a trait unusual for a Pyronite: a morbid fear of falling from large heights.

Yes, he remembered now. On Zylxx, the Pyronites lived exclusively in the mountains. Those who lived in the lower regions were captured and enslaved. Heatrian was a mountain-Pyronite, but his family had migrated from his mother-volcano when he had been a newborn.

Heatrian's phobia of heights was a lucky break for Klamin. The Pyronite would simply climb back up the shaft and find a way to get to the bottom level. In the meantime, Klamin would have a few moments to do the job and hopefully prevent Heatrian from finding out and reversing the alteration.

He turned down the hallway, and spotted a door at the other end. He accessed it, and it slid open silently. He exhaled the breath he had been holding. He had found the systems area.

He sat down at the console, squinting at the diverse controls. There were so many; how could he be sure which controls did what?

Making a wild guess, he flipped a switch by a computer monitor. The screen went blank. Good. He had cut off the building's security power source. Now he needed to turn off all the energy systems to prevent himself from getting electrocuted when he opened up the circuitry. He pressed another button, and the humming noise inside the room died as the lights switched off.

"Uh, Klamin, why are the lights off?" Jordin's voice sounded worried through the static of his comlink. "Turn them back on, please."

"You'll have to wait. I had to turn off all the power just in case I hook up a wrong wire and the entire mainframe explodes," Klamin replied, digging into his belt for his fusioncutter.

"Great, I thought you were supposed to be good at this."

"I am."

"Then why did you turn it off –––"

"Look, Jordin," Klamin said impatiently. "You should be able to fight in the dark for a few minutes; you're a Jedi student. Tell the others to tune into the Force. It'll help you see. In the meantime, the gold team will be at a disadvantage because they are the only ones without Force powers. This might be a good time to start targeting their bases."

"If we even knew where they are. When you turn the power back on, can you look it up on the computer monitor for us?"

"Hopefully I'll be able to find the power switch," Klamin joked.

"Wha –––"

He cut off the transmission, grinning.

The Force was a crucial element to complete his job. He didn't have night-vision goggles. He could very easily turn into a creature that had night senses, however, he found that working in the body of a multi-limbed creature was the most efficient. Quickly, he morphed into a Xexto and began to work, using the Force to sharpen his vision.

Altering the energy of the laser bolts was not hard. The easiest way was to simply change the angle of the prismatic crystals in each autoturret. But this was time-consuming, so Klamin decided to do it the hard way. He had to adjust the amount of energy particles transmitted to the turrets, first of all. This he did easily by tightening the energy valve within the mass of wires. Now he just had to provide an energy feedback so that the energy bolts would be compressed…

The Force surged, warning him of an intruder. He saw the flash of gold just microseconds before a blaster bolt whizzed centimeters past his head. He activated his lightsaber with his fourth arm and held it across his body protectively.

"Brannd! Drag! We've got 'im now!" the clone crowed.

"No, you don't," Klamin replied, sweating as he delicately applied the fusioncutter to weld two wires together.

"Careful, he has some arms to spare," a voice identical to the first one called, from the opposite direction.

Red bolts illuminated the darkness around him. Not daring to look up from his work, he deflected the bolts blindly.

"Showoff," the first clone muttered. "What do you think you're doing down here?"

"What are _you _doing down here?" Klamin shot back. _Just twenty more seconds to go…_

"Jys picked you up on our scopes. You weren't observed at the battlefield."

"Who's Jys?"

"Our surveillance tech. Number 0914."

"Who are you?"

"Aw, shut up Rez," a third clone called. "He's just trying to stall you!"

"Why isn't he attacking?" the second asked.

"Are you wounded?" Rez inquired.

"No. I came down here to shut down the power," Klamin lied, shutting the console silently and morphing back to his original shape. "Unfortunately, my teammates didn't like that idea."

He flipped the switch, and the lights blazed. An alarm sounded, and he smiled as he heard the whir of metal parts as the perimeter defenses went online. "Looks like the power's back on now. Hi-yah!"

He faked a kick at a clone standing near him. The clone ducked, and Klamin took the opportunity to leap over him and run out of the room. Blaster bolts skittered past his head as he skidded to a stop in the middle of the hallway, listening. Yes, the autoturrets had been activated; he could hear them firing at the clones in the systems mainframe. Also, he heard the screams of the Jedi students upstairs, so he knew that the perimeter defenses were in working order.

"Um, Klamin? Is there any way you can get the turrets to fire at specific targets?" Nic Modd asked over the comm system. "Not to complain or anything, but your plan is backfiring pretty bad."

He began to have a sinking feeling inside his stomach. "What do you mean by 'backfiring'?"

"I mean that the turrets are a neutral party," Nic said impatiently. "They're just firing at anyone that comes near them!"

"Oops, that's not good," Klamin said, just as Rez and Brannd burst through the doors, firing wildly.

"You're telling me. These machines have already taken out two of us. So, can you fix it now?"

Suddenly, Klamin heard the dreaded sound of lava oozing down the steps behind him, and he didn't need to turn around to confirm who his new attacker was. "Now is not really an opportune time for me to fix the turrets. Bye!" He spun around and swung his lightsaber at Heatrian, who grinned and ducked, surprising Klamin by jabbing at his stomach. He blocked the lightsaber blade in time, however, and had to roll to the floor as the gold team kept up their fire. Apparently, the turrets had only succeeded in dispatching Drag.

Klamin hesitated for a microsecond, then decided to attack the clones. He ran toward them, training lightsaber swinging. He almost forgot that the blasters and lightsabers weren't real, and his opponents were just kids like himself. This seemed like a real battle. He swiped at Rez, who nimbly dodged the blow, holding his wrist comlink up to his mouth. "Ember! Blue team has launched a surprise attack! Prepare to engage the perime –––"

Klamin did a tonfa undercut and brought the lightsaber blade with a smack across Rez's wrist. The comlink strap broke and went flying through the air. Rez dove for it, but Klamin Force-pulled the object into his hand, pivoting on one foot and doing a back spinning hook kick into Brannd, who dropped his blaster rifle in surprise.

"Tag," Klamin said, bringing his weapon down to lightly touch his disarmed opponent. To his astonishment, Brannd wiggled to the side, narrowly avoiding the blow, and brought his open hand around Klamin's wrist, twisting it so that he held Klamin's arm in a controlled grip. Obviously, the clones had been taught some self-defense techniques.

Of course, the clone was still no match for Klamin. He relaxed his body, shifting into a Chadra-Fan ––– a small, rodent-like alien ––– and slipped out from Brannd's grasp just microseconds before Rez fired a shot at his head. Shapeshifting into a Teevan ––– a species that was especially agile and flexible ––– he dove for Brannd's legs and wrapped his own arms and legs around the clone, effectively tripping him in a trademark laserball defense tackle.

With Brannd immobilized, Klamin released on of his arms and bent it backwards around his head, whooping triumphantly as his lightsaber whacked Rez, who had moved up behind him.

"Two down, two to go," he crowed as he brought around his lightsaber to tap Brannd. Suddenly a lightsaber sliced through the air just centimeters from his face.

Heatrian looked down at him menacingly, his orange lightsaber blade protruding from his stomach. "My kill, GOOD."

Fast as lightning, Klamin whipped his leg out and kicked Heatrian in the shin. A chip of obsidian fell to the floor from the impact, and though he was not hurt, the Pyronite began to scream.

"GOOD! I'm not a GOOD old rock you can chisel a statue out of you stupid, sad, _sleemo, _stinking Shi'Odo! I am WICKED and will not allow flakes of hardened volcanic material to be chipped off me –––"

Klamin grabbed Brannd around the waist and rolled them both away from the indignant Pyronite. He stood up, easily tapping the clone as he stood up and faced Heatrian, his last opponent.

Heatrian stopped in mid-scream, his eyes wide as he took in the situation. "WICKED red team must not lose," he said, stepping toward Klamin, his lightsaber blade moving up to his left arm.

He attacked with a Lightning Kata, clipping Klamin's hand as his weapon blazed a vivid arc around them. Klamin came in with an undercut, abruptly stopping the Kata in mid-form. Heatrian's lava eyes hardened as he adjusted his stance, planting his feet firmly to the floor.

"WICKED!" he yelled, lunging at Klamin. Klamin went back up two steps, deflecting the aggressive attack easily. Heatrian had never been able to fight efficiently once he got into a battle rage. Klamin knew the Pyronite would soon need to slow down to conserve his energy, or he would literally burn out. So Klamin decided to let Heatrian have the upper hand. For now.

They fought up the steps and down the hall. Flecks of ash ––– Pyronite sweat ––– spotted the front of Heatrian's lime green tunic. The strength behind his blows began to lag. Klamin suddenly started to move faster, pressing for the advantage. Heatrian's eyes widened at the unexpected attack.

"You didn't expect me to be so fast?" Klamin asked, doing a figure-eight to disengage Heatrian's block.

"Nah, you're GOODLY slow," Heatrian said. "It's those clones behind you."

Klamin paused, turning into an Arcona so that he could watch Heatrian while he turned around. A squad of clones, using jetpacks, were flying overhead. They seemed engaged in a conversation by comlink, so that hadn't noticed the two Jedi students yet.

"Wolf 1993, do you copy?" a metallic voice asked. "What's going on down there?"

"We lost 1374 - Rez, sir," a soldier said hesitantly. "His license isn't showing up on our scopes anymore."

"Dang, he must've gotten cut down. Nano, take your squad to base two immediately; I think you'll be expecting an attack soon. We've spotted several members of the red squad heading that way. Stop them before they can capture it."

"Roger that, Captain."

"Don't say 'Roger' clone; that's droid talk."

"Copy, Ember."

The squad zoomed off down the hall, jetpacks wheezing. Heatrian started forward, lightsaber held aloft, but Klamin restrained him.

"No, don't attack; if we follow them, we can find out where their bases are."

"But…they were just standing there, in a group, out in the open," Heatrian said, his eyes glazed over.

"What's wrong with that?"

"It was just so…_WICKEDLY_ tempting to cut them down. I could never resist attacking soldiers in orderly formation," he said, lava drooling onto the floor as he ran forward. He seemed to have forgotten that Klamin was not on his team, for he had turned his full attention to the squad of swiftly retreating clones.

Klamin activated his lightsaber. "Heads-up!"

He swung at Heatrian, who ducked and bolted away, screaming. Klamin charged after him, shapeshifting into a Lightningite so that he could outrun him. He had to be the one to get to that base first; the blue team must get that base at all costs.

He zipped past Heatrian, who stared at him, astonished. He whooped and sprinted after the clones, who still hadn't taken any notice of them.

Just then his comlink crackled. "Hey, Klamin, have you fixed those turrets yet? And have you looked up the location of the Gold bases? We have already found and successfully captured two of them, but we still haven't found the last one."

"I'm about to attack it," he answered. "It's on level two. Looks like an old reception hall."

"Got it. But what about those turrets?"

"Just stay away from them. I sort of got ambushed in the mainframe and I don't think I'll have an opportunity to get back there."

"We'll provide you some cover. Marya! Nic! Get down to level two and follow Klamin!" Jordin ordered.

"Why? Has he betrayed and you want us to execute him?" Nic asked.

"Of course not. He just needs a bodyguard while he gets to work on fixing the turrets."

"If you really insist," Marya sighed.

The shrieks of the clones as they entered the base were deafening. Klamin skidded to a halt at the door, watching gleefully as his perimeter defenses swerved around, tracking their targets and blasting their vests. _Ah. Only a genius could've devised something like this, _he reflected as he backed away from the door.

"Nineteen ninety-three, there's a blue member near your base," someone's comm said. "Why haven't you stopped him?"

"We haven't seen any blue," the clone said. "Just a bunch of red laser blasts coming at us."

"What are you talking about? The Jedi don't use guns."

"Someone activated the perimeter defenses, and the turrets have been firing blanks at us."

"Great. Just great. Abandon your posts until further notice. No one's going to be able to get in there without getting tagged, so don't worry about it."

"Yes, sir."

"WICKED!" Heatrian shoved past him, looking like an active volcano ready to explode. "Stupid GOOD clones! Die!"

"Sir, there's a lunatic, talking volcano swinging a lightsaber at us," a clone screamed microseconds before getting hit.

"Talking volcano? Have you gone out of your mind?" Ember yelled.

"Yes!" Heatrian shouted back, crumbling the comlink in his fist. "Long live the red team! WICKED!"

"Excuse me, Heatrian," Klamin said, barrelling through the doorway. The autoturrets clanked and came around till they were facing Klamin.

"Run!" a clone yelled.

The gold team bolted out of their base just as the turrets began to fire.

"ROAR!" Heatrian lunged at Klamin, going into Offense 4. Klamin parried his move, struggling to keep up with the turrets at the same time. Now he knew what Nic had meant about his plan backfiring. He wasn't a genius ––– he was a full-moon idiot.

"Argh! What full-moon GOOD idiot rigged these things up?" Heatrian panted. "Oh, wait, that would be you, wouldn't it, Klamin?"

"Guilty as charged," Klamin returned, blocking Heatrian's swipe as he rolled behind an old crate to provide some cover.

"Well, go fix it, you idiot, and I might spare your sorry GOOD life." Heatrian frowned. "Oh, wait, Teeks said I can't do that. Well, fix it and I'll let you be an honorary WICKED club member."

"No, thank you."

"Only GOODS and idiots say, 'no'" Heatrian hissed.

"I've already admitted to being an idiot."

Klamin leaped over the crate and sprinted toward the holographic stand. He began punching in the code for the blue flag to pop up, but was stopped when Heatrian swung his lightsaber at his neck.

"This is red team territory. Get out," the Pyronite said, punching in the code for the red flag.

Klamin turned into a Pyronite and batted Heatrian's hand away. "Blue team territory."

"Red."

"Blue."

"RED!"

"BLUE!"

Just then, Nic and Marya burst through the doors. "Klamin, you idiot! That's a hostile!" Nic yelled, charging toward Heatrian.

"I'm not a hostile, I'm WICKED!" Heatrian screamed, Force-pushing Nic into Marya just as the turrets resumed firing.

"Get out of here!" Nic yelled, picking himself up and running.

Klamin did a defensive push-kick into the Pyronite's stomach, splattering Heatrian to the floor. He quickly typed _13-476 _into the console.

A red flag replaced the gold on the screen.

"What?" Marya yelled, stopping in the middle of a deflect. A laser blast took her in the stomach, and she looked down in shock as the lights on her vest flashed, indicating a hit. "No way I'm out!"

"The red flag! Victory is mine!" Heatrian coughed, beginning to collect himself.

"Oops, typo," Klamin said, retyping in furiously. _13-376. _The red flag shimmered, turned purple, then blue.

"Whoo-hoo! Hey, Klam, that's the last base!" Jordin shouted through the transmission. "We just have to hold onto all nine bases for two minutes, and we've won! Way to go blue team! Marya, are you here? You are? Did you hear? We've won isn't that wonderful this is so great –––"

"Jordin, do not bother me right now. I have been ultimately humiliated," Marya said.

"Why, what happened? Do not tell me you tripped and fell down the stairs that would be so clumsy of you I always thought you were graceful Marya –––"

"I was tagged," Marya said flatly. "By a stupid turret."

"Well, be thankful this wasn't a real battle, or I wouldn't be talking to you right now because you would be dead. But you should be more careful! A lot of us have been taken out by the perimeter defenses. I have a bad feeling that Katma isn't going to be happy about that."

"I wonder what genius turned those things on," Marya said icily. Klamin blushed and turned into a Lethan Twi'lek.

"Hey, the turrets took out the entire gold team, except the Captain Ember and whoever was with him," Nic said. "There was this dude I was really impressed with, though: a guy they called Wolf. I'd give up all my Force powers to be named that."

"Not me," Marya shuddered. "What a disgusting name."

"Shouldn't you be heading for the neutral zone?" Nic countered.

"Shut up, you little worrt-brain –––"

"All right, all right, no need to get your pants in a knot," Klamin said, breaking up the tension. "We've got to keep it cool."

"Not while I'm around," Heatrian said, standing. "Give up this base or prepare to croak!"

Just then, several gold and red team members burst through the doors. Half the autoturrets turned away from Heatrian and the trio of blue team members to fire at the newcomers. Nic charged headlong into the fight, screaming a ferocious battle cry as he tapped three clones and two red team members in a row. Klamin started to follow, but was stopped by an all-too-familiar orange lightsaber blade.

Heatrian looked at him. "My team may have failed, but I will not be WICKEDLY deprived of victory. It is time that we fought, and prove which of Falcon's students is the greater."

"Me," Klamin said, grinning.

Heatrian grinned back. "We'll see about that!"

* * * * *

Thirty minutes later, Klamin and Heatrian were standing in the middle of what looked like the remains of a war zone. Actually, at the moment it looked more like a trial because they were in the center of a ring of Jedi students, with Katma sitting in a chair in front of them. She had an un-Jedi-like look of anger on her face as she stared at the burn marks on the walls, the crumbled cubicles, the smashed holographic screens, and the smoking autoturrets.

"In normal situations, I would laud your determination, spunk, and ingenuity," Katma said. "You all showed an astonishing display of maturity and leadership. Everyone did remarkable well, but it was the blue team that won the game. Good work."

There was a mild applause.

She cocked her head. "However, everyone made mistakes…" She shot an angry glance at Klamin and Heatrian as she said this. "Some made very critical errors, but for the most part, you all did well. One error I would like to point out is your reaction to the activation of the perimeter defenses."

"I knew it," Jordin said in a stage whisper.

Katma glared at her before continuing. " Your performance on that point was atrocious. A few more battle simulations will, however, correct that."

The trainer clapped her hands. "Dismissed. You may all leave for lunch break. Return for your next battle situation class one hour from now. Master Ahop, conduct Ember's elite squad to the Temple to their legion's barracks. I am very pleased with you and your squad's performance, 1253."

"It was fun, Ma'am," Ember said, saluting as a Jedi Master led the squad off.

Now they were alone in the room with Katma. Nic Modd shot them a sympathetic glance as he skipped down the hall. Klamin gulped, shifting his foot so that it hid the gaping hole in the floor. A bead of sweat dripped down his nose and seeped into his mouth. It tasted acrid on his tongue.

Master Malub looked at them for a long time before speaking. "I said the blue team won," she began. "Because they completed the objective. However, in this case, Klamin, you are excluded from the victory."

Klamin tried to keep his jaw from dropping open. Excluded from the victory? But he was the genius that came up with the idea of activating the perimeter defenses! He felt like punching the wall, but restrained himself. _If you can't control your anger, hide it, _Falcon had told him.

"You have an unusually keen battle-mind," Katma said. "If that were all, you would be a champion Jedi student in every way. But the problem is this, right now."

She looked at them, obviously expecting someone to answer. Heatrian swallowed. "That we're being yelled at? Is that the GOOD old problem? Big deal. I'm hungry. Gimme that rock, Klam."

Katma stamped her foot. "NO." She said. "You don't get it at all. Look at you! Look at this room! What does it look like?"

"That we staged a battle here?" Klamin hazarded.

She stormed up to them, and they took a step back, afraid of what she might do. Instead, she Force-pulled an object into her hand and held it up in front of Klamin's face. "Do you see this chunk of rock? It used to be a flawless block of duracrete; a piece of the floor. Then someone got angry and lost control over themselves and threw it at someone. Now look at it; look at this gouge in its side. Look at the scratches across its surface. This isn't regular wear-and-tear. Someone _abused_ it."

She looked so serious, talking about abusing rocks, that Klamin was beginning to think whether she was entirely sane or not.

She shook her head. "You don't get it, do you? Look at yourselves. You're a mess. You look like this rock." It fell out of her hand and shattered upon the floor. "This is what rage and lack of self-control does to you."

There was a moment of silence. "So are you saying that to be a Jedi, you have to look sharp?" Klamin asked.

"It's not what you look outside, it's what it does to you _inside _that matters!" Katma roared. "Did you seriously think I just went and sat in a cozy little office while you guys went at each other with lightsabers? NO! I had my eyes on you two the whole time. You think you're very smart, but you're wrong." She leaned forward. "You think you're better than everyone else because you two were taught by some hotshot Jedi Master. Adriaan told me to separate you two on _purpose_; she wanted to know how you would do when pitted against each other. She will be very disappointed when I give this report to her."

The anger inside him surged. So it _had _been deliberate when he and Heatrian had been put on opposite teams. It had all been a stupid test, and they had failed.

She paused. "You two think you're better because one of you can shapeshift and the other can melt things just by touching them. Well, here's a HoloNet newsflash for you two: you _aren't _better. In fact, you wouldn't pass the toddler classes we have. And your Master isn't that great either; that's why he's an EX-Jedi. You may have the talent, but you haven't got the attitude of a true Jedi. A Jedi doesn't obsess about his or her own ego. A Jedi doesn't say to another Jedi 'Let's fight so that we can see who's better' because there _is _no better. We are all equal. That is what you did wrong. You both thought you had to prove who was better, and so you took it more seriously than you should have. Because you wanted to prove your own worth, and thus satisfy your pride, you lost your control. You fought without form, without skill, and without any good motive. Because of this, you have failed utterly in mine and Master ell Talaan's expectations of you. You have not only damaged your own reputation, but hers as well. And I can tell you this: a bad reputation will not get you admitted into the Jedi Order."

Klamin and Heatrian looked at each other, too scared to speak. Their one dream, the one they had cherished for years, not possible? It had never occured to them that the Jedi wouldn't think them good enough to get admitted. Adriaan had seemed to believe in them, so why did Katma seem so disappointed in their conduct? They were only doing what Falcon had taught them to do.

"_You must be careful of what they teach you, because they do not believe where the true power of the Force lies, and they may try to trick you into using the weaker side."_

_Yes, Master._

"Master Malub, there is a message for two of your students!" a Jedi Apprentice ran up, panting.

Katma turned her full attention away from Klamin and Heatrian. "Yes, Net, what is it?"

"It's from the Council Chambers. Master ell Talaan would like Klamin and Heatrian J'Oli to come up immediately. She said to tell them that there is nothing to be afraid of; it is only a few tests, and questions the Council will want to ask them."

"Thank you. You may go." Katma turned around and faced them. "Well, I am not the Council, so I have no say on who can be admitted or not. But I just want to you let you know if you do not learn self-control over your feelings, you will not last a microsecond under the Council's examination."

Heatrian snorted.

She smiled thinly. "I wouldn't laugh. If I were you two, I would be very afraid right now."


	12. Ship Battle 2

chapter 12

_"Tag, you're it!" Andora laughed, tapping him on the back._

_ "I'm going to get you! I am an evil rancor, and I'm going to catch you and eat you for dinner!" he yelled as he chased her around the courtyard. The breeze blew lightly through his blond hair, refreshing him and drying the sweat from the back of his neck._

_ Her hair fanned out behind her in a long stream; dark brown as the rich earth underneath their feet…_

_ Then he saw his mother walking toward them…_

Aedan sat up in bed, yawning as he stretched his arms luxuriously over his head. Ah. Nothing like a WICKED rest to keep a WICKED's brain functioning WICKEDLY.

But his smile turned to a frown as he took more notice of his surroundings. White. Everything was that dumb laboratory-kind of white. White was a GOOD color; it was too clean. In his opinion, rooms should be painted with bright, expressive, WICKED colors, like a Naboo Aquahawks blue. Not white, which was dull, plain, and boring.

"Where in all GOOD planets am I?!" Aedan screamed. His shout bounced off the walls and rattled hauntingly in his ears. But it had immediate results, for seven anxious faces popped out from around the door, startled at the noise.

"Hey, the WICKED's awake!" Kien yelled, jumping onto the bed. "WICKED-O! WICKED morning to ya!"

"Wake up, WICKED old sleepyhead!" Terry screamed. "You've been GOODLY sleeping for _hours!"_

"Sleeping?" Aedan rubbed his head. "Why was I sleeping? WICKEDS don't sleep!"

"Then you must be a GOOD," Minir said.

"SHHH!" the Wicked Club chorused, shooting apprehensive glances at Aedan. When people called Aedan GOOD, GOOD things happened to them.

"What? Why all you all looking at me as if I'm a savage rancor?" Aedan asked. "Jahn Pal! I WICKEDLY demand to know why you are all GOODLY fidgeting!"

"Well, one of Kien's fleas bit my butt, and now it really itches," Jahn Pal whined.

"Oops, sorry, Jahn Pal, old boy," Kien said, glaring at a flea that had landed on his wrist. "Fluffy, how could you do such a GOOD thing? Fluffy is the name of my meanest, WICKEDEST flea," he explained.

"I don't care. I want to know why I was sleeping in this –––" Aedan looked around, trying to find the right words to describe the place, "––– GOOD room!"

"Well, the medical droid had to drug you so that you wouldn't scream during the operation it was ugly your hand I mean the operation was grossly WICKED Minir fainted but WICKED me and less-WICKED Terry laughed and watched all the gory WICKED detail," Andre said informatively.

Then his memory all came rushing back. Jahn Pal being an idiot. Andora nearly croaking on them. His hand, flying through the air. Refusing to fall, refusing to croak…

"Hey, Jahn Pal, I have just made an amazing discovery!" Sai'wer piped up. "Look! Aedan's hand grew back!"

Minir groaned.

Aedan inspected the wound. At first, the replacement arm looked just like a stupid mass of meaningless wires and metal pieces attached to the stump of his wrist, but as he tightened his muscles in fury at the sight, the wires moved with him. He hesitated, then flexed his hand. There was a faint _click click click _as he rubbed his fingers together. He clenched it into a fist and punched it into the open palm of his left hand and winced.

"Hey, be WICKEDLY careful," Terry said. "You could punch your other hand right off if you keep GOODLY doing that."

Punch off other hands with his own droid limb? That didn't sound too GOOD. In fact, it sounded downright WICKED. Aedan was beginning to like the idea of having a droid hand.

"GOOD little genius Jahn Pal!" he roared. "You may approach my WICKED majesty."

The other Wicked Club members looked scared as they reluctantly pushed Jahn Pal toward him. Obviously, they were expecting Aedan to do something WICKEDLY violent to the person responsible for the accident. Only Minir looked happy as they anticipated the WICKED tantrum that was bound to come.

"Well, Jahn Pal, do you know what I am going to WICKEDLY say?" Aedan asked sternly.

"Yes," Jahn Pal said proudly, not intimidated in the least, "You are going to say thank you, of course."

There was an astonished silence, penetrated only by Minir's inaudible, "Yep, he's a croaker."

Then Aedan grinned. "Yes, that's WICKEDLY exactly what I was going to say! Thank you Jahn Pal! That was the most WICKEDEST thing you ever did for me!" he grasped Jahn Pal's hand in his droid limb and pumped it up and down warmly. "I would make you WICKED second-in-command, if only you weren't so stupid."

"Ow, ow, ow, ow," Jahn Pal said, struggling to get free of Aedan's strong grip. "Thank you."

Now the Wicked Club was beginning to look _really _scared. No doubt they thought that he was WICKEDLY insane. Well, if that's what they were thinking, then they were right. Aedan _was _insane. He was just being more insanely WICKED than usual.

"Ah, are you all right_ here_, WICKED?" Terry asked, pointing to his head.

"He's finally cracked," Minir muttered.

"Nah," Andre whispered back. "He's not a lunatic…not yet."

"When will he be, WICKED?" Kien hissed.

"When he starts thinking girls are not GOOD, but WICKEDLY attractive."

Aedan straightened. "Me? How _dare _you suggest that I could possibly come to such a GOOD conclusion!"

"Well, it happens," Andre said cautiously.

"Never," Aedan said flatly. "The Jedi Order will be GOODLY destroyed before I will like a GOOD, especially a GOOD girl."

"All right, all right, I meant no GOOD offense," Andre said, backing up.

"But have you gone bantha-brained?" Minir exclaimed. "Since when have the geniuses done anything WICKEDLY beneficial to the WICKED Club?"

"As I always say, 'There's always a WICKED first time'" Aedan said, folding his arms.

Kien looked confused. "But I've never heard you say that –––"

Aedan cuffed him on the ears, silencing his protest. "Who cares! That is not the WICKED point! The point is, Jahn Pal has 'turned a new leaf'! A WICKED leaf!"

"Impossible!" Minir interjected.

"Silly, GOOD old Minir," Aedan said, shaking his head. "Have you forgotten your WICKED training?"

"Of course I haven't!" Minir snapped.

"Then, of course you WICKEDLY remember WICKED rule 276GOODNESS."

"Ooh! I know, I know! Let me answer!" Sai'wer said, flapping his arms excitedly.

"No," Minir said. "You couldn't possibly know the answer when you can hardly remember your own GOOD name."

"Let the silly GOOD speak," Aedan said, nodding at Sai'wer to continue. "You may WICKEDLY answer."

Sai'wer suddenly stopped flailing his arms. "Ooh, uh, my, um…" he started to shake. "Ah, oh, err, dee! Duh! Huh, duh, bleih!"

Terry yawned. Kien coughed. Andre picked his nose. Minir rolled his eyes. Aedan tapped his foot impatiently.

"Bah! Ah! Err, eh, buh, bleih, ah…"

Na'thin looked at his chrono. Jahn Pal began to suck on his thumb.

"GOOD! Just give us the stupid answer!" Aedan screamed. "What is rule 276GOODNESS?!"

"Huh?" Sai'wer jumped. "Chocolate pudding?"

The Wicked Club burst into fits of laughter.

"Hoh hoh hoh!" Aedan chortled.

"Hah hah hah!" Terry and Kien shrieked, slapping their sides.

"!" Andre chuckled evilly.

"What are you guys laughing about?" Sai'wer was confused.

"Never mind," Aedan said. "Can someone other than Mister genius here give me a WICKED answer?"

Andre raised his hand.

"This isn't a GOOD school!" Aedan snapped. "Put your GOOD hand down!"

Andre put his hand down quickly.

"ANSWER!" Aedan thundered.

"276GOODNESS states that if one can be destroyed, one is GOOD," Andre yelped.

"Exactly!" Aedan screamed. "And what was GOODLY destroyed?" he held up his droid arm. "My hand!"

They all gasped. Terry clapped a hand to his mouth. "You don't WICKEDLY mean –––"

"Yes. It is true. After all these years, the truth is WICKEDLY revealed," Aedan said dramatically. "I have been using a GOOD hand the entire time!"

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!" the Wicked Club shrieked, scattering. "!!!!!!!"

"All right, all right, there's no need to get all GOOD about it," Aedan said, getting out of bed. "Jahn Pal, I honestly cannot thank you WICKEDLY enough for the WICKED deed you have done for me. Just imagine! I could've been living with that GOOD old hand all my life without knowing the WICKED difference! The shame of it! Luckily for me, you were able to dislocate it from my body before the disease of GOODNESS was spread to the rest of me."

"You're crazy," Minir said.

"Hey, Aedan, if that hand was GOOD, maybe I should test your other body parts for you to make sure they are _all_ WICKED," Jahn Pal volunteered. "Hang on a minute while I get my lightsaber…"

"NO!" Aedan screamed, grabbing Jahn Pal by the collar. He released him abruptly. "I mean…no, Jahn Pal, that is entirely unnecessary. I am content knowing I have at least one WICKED arm."

"It makes you wonder whether _any_ of us are WICKED," Minir remarked sarcastically.

Aedan stepped toward him threateningly. "Do you want me to test you all, just to make sure?"

"Uh, the medic droid said you can't be out of bed until tonight," Kien said quaveringly.

"Blast the GOOD droid," Aedan said, advancing toward them. "Who wants to go first?"

"Me," Jahn Pal said, waving his hand. "Me first!"

"No, _me_ first!" Sai'wer argued, pushing his cousin out of the way.

"No, you GOODS!" the rest yelled. "Run!"

Aedan smiled as he watched his entire band of WICKEDS turn and flee from the room, screaming.

* * * * *

"Aedan's awake," Kay Lee remarked as she strapped herself into the pilot suit that went underneath the space protective gear.

Kan was in the middle of sipping his caf when she said this. He choked on the hot drink, and doubled over as the liquid sprayed out of his nose and mouth and splattered all over the tabletop. He recovered after a few moments and wiped his mouth across his sleeve. "Oh, that's nice," he said, trying to sound nonchalant.

Kay Lee grinned at him. "Sorry. I didn't mean to give you a heart attack. But the good ––– literally GOOD ––– news is that Aedan has to stay at the hospital until tonight, so he won't be coming with us on this one."

"But the entire Wicked Club will," Kan sighed. "And that conceited brat, Andora."

"Did Captain Enik require my presence?" Andora asked, appearing in the doorway. She had her full Jedi robe on, and was holding her pilot helmet underneath her arm.

Kay looked at Kan and winked. "Why, yes, he did, Andi," she said. "He wanted to know if you're going to come with us through the asteroid belt."

"Certainly, acclaimed leader."

"Then it's settled." Kay Lee, Jedi Apprentice, strapped on her utility belt and thunked her navy blue pilot helmet indifferently on her head, and immediately transformed into Commander Lee of the Republic forces. "Troops, prepare your ships for battle! Asteroid Cÿÿ approaching!" she barked. "Captain Enik, get into your suit! Break's over!"

"Yes, _sir_!" Kan bellowed, grinning as he followed Kay out the door.

They entered the hangar bay, which was swarming with activity as clones scattered to their ships, repairing equipment, checking droids, and confirming takeoff of different class Republic fighters. Kan ducked as a V-wing took off over his head. He leaped into a vacant ARC-170 and started doing the preflight check while his clone copilot finished fine-tuning the aft laser cannons.

The lights on the console flashed green in confirmation. Kan leaned out the cockpit window. "Hey, 1374, are you ready?"

"Done, sir," the clone said, putting away his fusioncutter and leaping into the copilot seat. "Coordinates for the asteroid have already been plugged in, Captain."

"Thanks," Kan said. "Let's get this thing out there."

As the craft started to take off, the Wicked Club members dashed into the hangar and pushed and shoved each other as they ran for their own ships. Kan shook his head as he watched them. They looked so pathetic.

He gunned the engines and rose smoothly over the boys. Andre looked up and waved at him as he flew overhead. 1374 waved back.

"Whoo-hoo! Ever fought in an ARC-170, Kan…I mean Captain?" his copilot asked as they joined the formation of ships.

"In simulations, mostly," Kan answered shortly, reflecting that his copilot was a little too emotional for a clone. "This is my second time."

"Ah, a 'shiny'"

"A 'shiny' ––– you mean a rookie?"

"Yeah."

"I'm not a rookie!" Kan protested.

"Then what's that Padawan braid for?"

Kan decided not to answer.

"This is _Comet 1_, standing by," Commander Lee said.

"_Comet 2,_ standing by," Kan said.

"_Comet 3_ standing by."

"_Comet 4 _standing by."

"_Comet 5, _standing by."

"WICKED Comet, standing WICKEDLY by."

"WICKED Comet, standing WICKEDLY by."

"WICKED Comet, standing WICKEDLY by."

"WICKED Comet, standing…"

"All right, we get it," Commander Lee said impatiently. "Set craft in attack formation!"

"Captain, look to your right side. You see anything?" 1374 asked.

_Usually, clones say, "starboard" not "right side" _Kan thought. _I wonder if this clone's out of tune or something. _

He looked out the cockpit window and did a double-take. A dull gray, round asteroid the size of a small planet loomed up on the screen. But that wasn't what shocked him; after all, they were in the middle of an asteroid field. It was the thing _on _the asteroid.

"What is _that_?" 1374 asked.

"It looks like a city," Kan said.

"It's worse than that," Kay Lee answered grimly. "It_'s _a fortress."

As Cÿÿ loomed closer, Kan could clearly see the outlines of the structure. Shiny, black pinnacles rose from the gray landscape and pierced the dark sky. It was all one uniform ebony color, and judging by the thickness of the wall, it was too strong to be taken out by bombers. If he squinted, he could see things moving against the rigid outlines of the fortress. CIS artillery.

"_Comet 2, _watch your port side!" a clone called. Kan sent his ship into a roll, barely missing an asteroid that spun erratically past him. He exhaled slowly and relaxed his grip on the controls. Though most asteroid fields were nefarious for being ship graveyards, the Kiyp Belt was supposed to be relatively safe, since Syleetoian miners had blown up half the asteroids in the belt nearly a century ago to create a clear course for cargoships. On top of that, the Zylxxian's binary planet, Zyzywlvlv, had developed a method for monitoring most of the debris flying in the belt by launching orbital machines that created a small gravitational pull, clumping the tinier asteroids together so that they formed larger objects that were easier to navigate around. But even all of these precautions did not prevent accidents from happening.

"How did they build that WICKED thing so quickly?" Kien breathed.

"The CIS build things really fast," Andre said. "But my old Master said they do a GOOD job building things and most things they build are prefabricated and they use cheap GOOD materials and that thing doesn't look very WICKED to me so I think we have a WICKED shot at destroying it."

"I object," Andora said. "It appears to me to be well fortified."

"I agree with that," Kan said through clenched teeth. "But the Seps couldn't have built that thing so well in so short of a time. How did it get here?"

"You GOODS are forgetting that this is an agricultural facility," Minir said. "People actually live here."

"Then that must have used to be a city, before the CIS captured and reconstructed it," Kay Lee asserted.

"That's possible," Kan said.

"I have a question. How the heck did this asteroid belt end up being an agricultural facility?" I374 asked.

"I can elucidate, if I may, Commander Lee," Andora said. "According to my galactic history textbook, the Kiyp Belt was initially a planetary orb. Approximately a millennium ago, a comet collided into the celestial body, eradicating it's spherical form. The impact caused rich minerals in the core to surface, and these solid substances of natural occurrence institutes the Kiyp Belt's soil as the most fertile in the system. However, they have had to construct atmospheric structures to create a suitable environment for the plants. I have also heard that this is an ideal mining facility for prismatic crystals, hence the CIS's wish to occupy the belt, as it would provide them with the components necessary to create a blaster."

"Blah, blah, blah blah blah," Jahn Pal and Sai'wer babbled.

"Exactly what I heard," Kien said.

"Comets, keep formation. We are approaching the asteroid," Commander Lee said.

"Copy, _Comet _Leader."

"Not copy, GOOD Leader."

"Not copy, GOOD Leader."

"Not copy, GOOD Leader."

"Not copy, GOOD –––"

"Trifighters coming in!" Kan shouted as he spotted dark grey flecks moving toward them. His exclamation was immediately followed by red laser blasts peppering the fleet.

"Take evasive action!" Kay Lee shouted.

As Kan wrenched the controls downward, 1374 started to fire at the closest target. They were soon rewarded with the familiar red bloom of fire as the droid craft exploded.

"Good shot, _Comet 2_," a clone said.

"Thank my gunner," Kan replied, veering to the starboard side as several fighters broke out of formation to attack.

"Whoo! This is one wicked ride, Captain!" 1374 shouted as he blasted two more droid ships to smithereens. "You're not as shiny as I thought!"

Kan started. For a second there, his copilot had almost sounded like Aedan. But that, of course, was not possible. Aedan was on the _Quasar, _recuperating from his injury. Kan smiled as he sent his craft into a spin. The situation seemed hopeless, but at least this was a mission when he wouldn't have to put up with Aedan.

"They've deployed missiles! Get out of the way!" Kay Lee shouted. Kan pulled up, barely escaping from the missiles as they zoomed past his craft, leaving a faint, bluish trail. "They've overshot!" 1374 said, looking over his shoulder. "But they're coming back around. I think they're targeting us, Captain."

"Hang on." Kan slammed hard on the controls and pushed the ship's speed past maximum. He would have to outfly the missiles; he didn't know any other way to trick the missiles into exploding into something else. He had heard something about releasing spare part canisters to confuse the computers, but that would only work once. There were about six missiles onto him.

"Aw, why did they have to target me, of all the people in the fleet?" Kan groaned.

"Allow me, rookie," his copilot said, rapidly pressing a series of buttons. There was a faint _clank _as the ship released several spare parts into space. "I can Wi…I mean I can shoot some of these babies down. Just put the ship into a roll just in case I miss one."

"Okay. Hang on." Kan jerked the controls to the right, and felt his stomach lurch as the craft was sent into a rapid spin. 1374 began firing at the missiles behind him.

"Yahoo! Two of them went for the decoys!" his copilot crowed. "I've shot down another, but there's still three more out there."

Secretly, Kan wondered how his copilot had been able to hit anything at all with the ship in such an erratical path. He could barely keep his eyes focused on the navscreen, he was feeling so dizzy. "_Comet 10, _see if you can get a few of those missiles off me."

"All right," a sleepy voice said. "Sai'wer, start shooting Kan."

"No! That's not what I meant!" Kan was cut short as his ship was clipped by starfire. "Idiots! Friendly fire!"

"Oops," Jahn Pal said.

Kan sat tensely. His ship began to slow down, and his cockpit window fogged up. "What's going on?"

"We've lost our portside engine," 1374 said.

"Oh, great." This was not good news. "I'll just have to keep spinning!" Kan shouted as the ship sensors warned of incoming missiles. "Keep shooting! Give it everything you've got!"

His ship was beyond his control. Helpless, he watched it spin in tighter and tighter circles. _Just hang on…_

"Hey, they're all gone," his copilot said.

"What? Did they crash into each other?"

"No. They got within two meters of us, and then exploded in space. Weird."

Kan allowed the craft to slow down. It stopped rolling and righted itself. "Perhaps they overheated," he suggested. "Well, I'm glad that's over."

"_Comet 2,_" Kay Lee said. "There's something on your hull."

"Impossible."

"Um, actually, it's not," 1374 said. "There are what appears to be droids drilling into the hull."

"Oh, shoot." He winced as he heard the clank of metal feet overhead. A trio of small droids appeared in front of the cockpit screen. Kan smiled nervously and waved. "Uh, hi, little guys…"

_Buzz. Zzzz ehehelelelelelelelel! Clank! Zzzz! _They scurried around the hull, tearing off pieces of the ship. One droid stood in front of the cockpit bubble and began to slice into the transparisteel using a plasma cutting torch.

"Hey, stop that!" Kan said. _Buzz. Hehehehehehehehh. _Their chatter seemed to taunt him. They seemed to be saying, "Hah hah! You can't get us you can't get us!"

"What's going on? What's that noise, Kan?" Kay sounded worried.

"They're tearing apart the ship!" Kan shouted. "I'm losing control!"

"Buzz droids," a clone said. "There were rumors of these droids being developed by the Seps, but we didn't know how far into the maturation they were."

"I guess we know now," Kan said. "Is there any way to destroy them?"

"I'm sorry, sir, did you say something? Your transmission is breaking up…"

"I said, 'how can we destroy them'?" Kan shouted.

"Repeat…no way…survive…pressure…suit,"

"Oh, whatever," Kan said, frustrated. "We're doomed, 1374."

"Not entirely," the clone said. "The wing Commander ordered that we take the precaution of storing emergency oxygen tanks, with suits to protect us from the pressure of space…"

Kan immediately unstrapped himself and began rummaging through the compartments on the console. "Here they are! I owe your wing Commander a glass of Ruby Bliels. You guys are geniuses." He began to shove himself into the emergency suit. "You okay back there?"

"Never wicked…better," the clone seemed to say.

"I'm sorry, 1374, but did I hear you say, 'wicked'?"

Suddenly there was a crash as the cockpit bubble shattered. Kan felt himself being sucked into the vacuum of space. In spite of himself, he began to scream.

"Kan! Kan! It's all right!" his copilot said, floating past him. "Grab onto my hand! We can't be floating around like this, or we'll get caught in some laser fire pretty fast."

Kan inhaled some of the precious oxygen from his tank, and immediately felt his fears subside. He reached out and grabbed the clone's gloved hand.

"Right," he heard his companion say. "Now, let's try to emergency land on Cÿÿ. I know it sounds crazy to land in an enemy sector, but it's the only asteroid close enough with the required gravitational pull. Once we land, we can trek to the nearest atmospheric bubble that isn't occupied by the Seps. Our oxygen tanks can last only for a few hours, so we'd better get going."

"Okay." Kan felt a wave of heat against his face as 1374 activated his jetpack and zoomed toward the closest object: the enemy base, Cÿÿ.

Suddenly, the jetpack died with a low whine. They came to a stop in space. "Oh, great," the clone said. "The fuel tank is empty."

"Just our luck," Kan fumed. "Now we're going to have to float here in space forever…"

"Unless Commander Lee finds us," 1374 reminded him.

Kan shook his head. "She probably thinks we're dead. Anyway, she has a battle to continue."

Just then, two vulture droids swooped over them, firing. Kan and the clone churned their arms frantically, trying to move out of the way. It felt like swimming against a strong current. "Looks like we have company," 1374 commented.

That gave Kan an idea. "Wait for them to come around for another pass," he said.

He activated his lightsaber.

"Uh, what are you doing?" 1374 asked.

The vultures twisted around and zoomed toward them, firing. Kan deflected the blasts, taking care not to hit the droids. He needed them mostly intact to make a crash landing…

The vultures deployed several missiles at them.

"That's not good," Kan said.

"Not good, not good," the clone muttered. Kan wondered again if his copilot was malfunctioning. But did clones malfunction?

It was impossible to use his lightsaber on the missiles. Deactivating his weapon, he stretched both hands out in front of him and called upon the Force.

He reached out in his mind, grabbing hold of the missiles. They were hot, and slippery, and seemed alive, but he grappled with them and with all his strength threw them backwards.

He opened his eyes. The missiles had changed course and were heading for the vulture droids. He made a quick hand motion, and the missiles veered away and exploded harmlessly in space.

"You GOOD! What did you do that for?" Someone said. Kan turned with surprise toward the clone.

"What?" 1374 said. "Did you hear something?"

Kan frowned, then shook his head. His mind must have been playing tricks on him. "I'm just hearing things, I guess," he said. "Now, listen to me carefully. When they are close enough to touch, we're going to jump onto them. Then I'll do a little sabotage with my lightsaber to make them crash into the asteroid. Just hold onto me, and I'll tell you when to jump. Got it?"

"Okay." The clone didn't even seem scared or skeptical of the strange plan.

"One, two…" laser blasts zipped around them, but didn't touch them. The vultures hovered closer.

"JUMP!"

They leaped onto the closest ship. Kan felt his boots slide against the slick hull, and dug his toes into the ship to keep his balance. The clone slipped, clinging to the wing for dear life. The other vulture droids panicked and began firing on their own ship.

_Chi tri-ni gu-nu! _The vulture droid protested. The others deployed several missiles toward the target. Kan yanked the clone to his feet and Force-jumped onto the next droid.

There was a brief explosion that penetrated the silence of space. Kan covered his ears, feeling the heat sear through his armor.

"Whoa, that was the wickedest thing I've ever seen," 1374 said. "The other two just crashed into each other."

Kan winced at the clone's second use of the word "wicked" He sounded so much like a Wicked Club member when he spoke sometimes…but then, he hadn't put any emphasis to the word, as the Wicked Club did. It was just coincidence that he had used the word at all.

"That's good for us," Kan said. "Now we won't have anyone firing at us."

The vulture droid put on a sudden boost of speed, making them both lose their balance. They were nearly ripped right off the ship, but Kan managed to grab hold of the wing in time. "We'd better be more careful," he said, whipping out his liquid cable launcher. "Tie this to your belt, so that we won't lose each other. I need to have both hands to slice through the hull."

After the clone had firmly secured himself to the cable, Kan withdrew his lightsaber and swiped at the starboard engine. The droid began to spin out of control.

"W-W-W-W-W-W-W-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-C-C-C-C-C-C-C-C-K-K-K-K-K-K-K-K-K-E-E-E-E-E-E-E-E-D-D-D-D-D-D-D-D-D!!!"

The asteroid's surface loomed into view, then ducked quickly out of sight as the droid spun around and around and around, closer and closer to the base…

1374's helmet smashed against his, and he was confronted by blue eyes as bright as the Coruscanti sky…

_Jango Fett doesn't have blue eyes. His eyes were dark; dark as night. Dark as death. The person the clones were copied out of. They all look like him. I hate him. I hate _them_. Why does this one have blue eyes?_

_ "Kan, there is no Jango Fett. What are you talking about?" his Master said. Not Adriaan. Adriaan did not exist. Ruru. Ruru Xelan. "There is no war. There is peace in the galaxy. This is all just a bad dream. Wake up. Jordin's here to play with you. Don't you ever want to see her again? You have to wake up."_

_ Wake up._


	13. Stranded in Enemy Territory With Aedan

chapter 13

"WICK-Kan, WICK-Kan, WICK-Kan WA-ICKED wake _up_," an all-too-familiar voice sang.

"Ugh." Kan rolled over onto his side and felt the protective padding poke into his ribs. "1374?"

"AKA WICKED WICKED TRULY WICKED AEDAN KENOBI IS WICKED KING OF WICKED WICKEDNESS," Aedan said. "That crash-landing plan of yours was brilliantly WICKED for a GOOD. It was WICKED, except that you fainted in the end. Why did you do that? I thought that was a girl thing."

"I guess I'm just prone to fainting," Kan said, remembering the time he had passed out in the throne room on Zylxx. But that had been because he hadn't adjusted to the change of atmosphere. Suddenly he sat bolt upright. "Wait a second. Aedan Kenobi! What the heck are you doing here?"

"I was your WICKED copilot and crash-landed with you," Aedan said. "Remember? Bee-Tee-Double-U-Double-U, did I make a WICKED clone?"

"Bee-Tee-Double-U-Double-U?"

"You know! BTWW ––– shorthand for 'By The WICKED Way'?" Aedan said impatiently.

"Oh…" Kan thought back. "Well, you had me thinking I was hearing things for a while, and you seemed sort of emotional, but other than that, you did an okay job. But why did you come? Were you not given explicit orders to stay at the medical center until tonight?"

"Of course I was given that GOOD old order," Aedan said. "That is why I came in a WICKED disguise. Anyway, technically I've been released from that GOOD old hospital because it's always night in space." He jabbed a finger toward the star-speckled heavens. "See my WICKED point?"

Kan did see his point, but he did not want to admit that Aedan was right. "No, I don't," he said. "You knew what Commander Lee meant. You have deliberately disobeyed your commanding officer and, on top of that, you have tried to justify your actions instead of admitting your errors."

"Does that mean you're going to GOODLY yell at me?" Aedan asked.

"No," Kan said. "Because first of all, I'm not in any situation to sit here and yell at you, and secondly I think that's Kay Lee's responsibility. You're off the hook for now, but man, you're going to catch it big-time if we ever get out of this mess."

"So I have to choose between GOODLY croaking on this mission or WICKEDLY surviving and getting killed later by my angry commanding officer?" Aedan said. "Tough, GOOD choice."

"I certainly wouldn't want to be in your position," Kan agreed.

"Yeah," Aedan said cheerfully. "But at least I have something to WICKEDLY look forward to."

"Dying? But I thought WICKEDS don't die –––"

"Exactly. That's why I don't mind getting into trouble like this, because I know that because I'm WICKED, I'll get out in the end. It gives any GOOD situation a WICKED, positive outlook. It works WICKED wonders, man. You should try it sometime."

"Being optimistic in desperate situations?" Kan thought for a minute. "That sounds hopelessly stupid. What if I die?"

"If you have WICKED hope, you never consider dying to be an option," Aedan said.

"Okay, I'll try it. Thanks for the advice."

"No problem, WICKED-O. Now, take a deep, WICKED breath. Has your panic WICKEDLY subsided?"

Kan inhaled, then exhaled. "No," he said shakily. "Because whenever I take a breath of air, I can't help thinking that I'm using up the oxygen in the emergency tank."

"What is WICKEDLY needed is not GOODLY wasted," Aedan said helpfully.

They stood up and began to walk. That is, Kan began to sort of shuffle along in his cumbersome space suit, while Aedan hopped and skipped as if he wasn't lugging heavy space-protection gear.

"How GOODLY far till we get to the station?" Aedan asked after a while.

"How should I know?" Kan said irritably. "All our equipment blew up with our ship."

"Well, there's no need to get in a GOOD old huff about it."

A few moments of silence passed.

"Are we there yet?" Aedan piped.

"Do you see the enemy encampment?"

"No."

"Then we aren't."

"Kan?"

"What?"

"Do GOOD droid patrols stray GOODLY far from the base perimeter?"

"What a stupid question. NO!"

"Kan?"

"WHAT!?" Kan shouted.

"Stop shouting, you silly GOOD!" Aedan screamed back.

"Why not? _You're_ the one who's screaming!" Kan yelled back.

"Because –––" Aedan paused. "Because I am the WICKED King!"

Kan came to a stop. "That's not a very convincing argument."

"Well, the less important reason is that there are two droid sentries on STAPs heading our way."

Kan threw himself to the ground, dragging Aedan with him. "Idiot! Why didn't you tell me? We could've been spotted!"

"Or heard," Aedan retorted. "Anyway, what danger is two GOOD old droids anyway? You act like they're two gigantic WICKED space slugs. You're a GOOD wimp."

"I'm not a wimp," Kan whispered angrily, army-crawling toward a small depression in the ground that would provide them with some cover. "Two droids are a piece of cake."

"Then what's the GOOD old problem?"

"We're in enemy territory, that's what's the problem!" Kan said furiously. "Furthermore, if we're spotted they can send the entire garrison down on us, which is a big deal of a difference from two little droids."

"Aw, a garrison of GOODS is nothing," Aedan scoffed.

"With a maniac handicapping me, it _is _something!"

"Maniac? Handicapped? What the GOOD are you saying?" Aedan said, standing up.

"Get down, moron! They're coming closer!"

Aedan began to whistle. "I can't hear you…"

The STAPs were so close now he could hear the low whine of the engines. He pressed himself flatter into the shallow crater. "Aedan!"

The stubborn boy pretended not to hear.

"Aedan…" Kan was beginning to lose patience. "Aedan! AEDAN! A-A-A-A-E-E-E-E-D-D-D-D-A-A-A-A-N-N-N-N!!!!"

The Wicked King suddenly did a belly flop on top of Kan, knocking the breath from his body. "Do you know how to shut up, GOOD?" he whispered. "There are enemies approaching! We must not be GOODLY seen!"

"Really," Kan muttered. Aedan glared at him and clapped a dirty, gloved hand on Kan's mouth.

The droids stopped their vehicles and got off, turning their heads as their eye sensors scanned the area. Kan and Aedan went still, holding their breath. Had the droids seen them? Was that why they had stopped?

"See what I told you? It was just a couple of shadows," the first droid said, breaking the silence.

"I tell you, I saw something move," the second droid insisted.

"Your programming makes you all jumpy," the other one said, waving an arm dismissively. "You recruits are all the same; it must be some material in the plastoid components here that makes you all such losers. And bad shots, I might add."

"Bad shot yourself, you recycled fuel tank."

Aedan snickered.

The second droid whirled around. "What was that?"

Everyone went still for several moments.

"That's nothing, _again_," the other one said finally. "You're probably just picking up a disturbance from the space battle overhead."

The two machines moved off, allowing Kan and Aedan a little more breathing room. They relaxed just the tiniest bit.

"That was WICKEDLY close," Aedan whispered.

Kan nodded, then winced at the creaking his joints were making. But he had no need to worry; the droids had lost interest in the search and had marched back to the STAPs.

Aedan cocked his head. "They're saying something more; I can't WICKEDLY hear what they're saying, though," he said. He wrinkled his nose. "They're probably just talking about the usual ––– dumb GOOD girlfriends and UNWICKED stuff like that."

"Droids don't have girlfriends," Kan said automatically. He was actually curious to know what they were talking about. He sort of liked them when he wasn't remembering that they were his enemies. They were pretty amusing to hear, once you got past their dreary, processed voices. He called on the Force, tuning out everything around him so that he could only hear the two droids speaking.

"No, the most boring job is definitely standing guard during the Separatist meetings," the first one was saying. "I had to do that yesterday with DR-331…I felt like my circuits were burning out just by standing there for hours on end."

"Ah, it's not all that dull if you stand close to the door," the second one said. "I did that on my shift two days ago; it was a private council General Epi'do had with the Count."

_The Count! _Kan and Aedan stiffened. Count Dooku was the leader of the Separatist Movement. Could he really be here, on Cÿÿ? It seemed inconceivable.

But Kan was soon disappointed as the droid continued, "The Count is too busy on Raxus Prime with that Force Harvester project to come here himself, so it was a holo conference only."

"Did they say anything of interest?"

"Like giving us all tune-ups and a new coat of paint? No, they talked about unimportant stuff such as battle strategies and a plot to make the Zylxxian people revolt against their Queen…"

Aedan's head drooped, and he blinked sleepily. Kan pinched the boy's arm to rouse him. It might be dangerous if Aedan fell asleep. Who knew what the boy could do in his unconscious mind? The thought made Kan shudder.

Aedan's head shot up, and he glared at Kan. "I'm listening," he said grumpily.

Kan made a motion with his hand to keep quiet. A plot to overthrow the Queen of Zylxx? Hyrax, the eight-year-old Twi'lek immigrant who had been her own bodyguard's puppet. Why would there need to be a plot to overthrow her? Last time Kan had seen her, she had been slowly recovering from the effects of Actin 3.

"The Count got Epi'do to leak information that Hyrax has had double dealings with their twin planet's leader. Apparently, there has been a centurylong estrangement between the two planets because the binary planet is holding a grudge against Zylxx for being elected the capital of the system. Anyway, according to the rumors we have been spreading, Hyrax is the one who released that virus on her own people. Pretty smart, isn't it?"

Kan's heart was in his mouth. _Adriaan, you had no clue what we were dealing with here…a centurylong estrangement between two planets? And how can they possibly think the Zylxxian people will believe that their own Queen authorized the release of a deadly virus? Hyrax nearly died from exposure to the virus herself. What a stupid idea._

Nevertheless, he was afraid that somehow, it would work.

A long snore escaped from Aedan, who had drifted off to sleep. The two droids broke off their conversation abruptly as the noise echoed across the bare landscape, shattering the silence. The second one whirled around.

"I told you there was something –––"

Kan never gave them time to withdraw their blasters. Leaping out of the ditch, he flipped over them and swiped at their heads, just like his Master had taught him. He landed with a thud on the ground, deactivating his lightsaber as he heard the satisfactory _crash _as the droids crumpled to the ground.

Aedan sat up and yawned. He stared for several minutes at the decapitated droids. "Did I GOODLY miss something?"

"Just a day in the life of a Jedi," Kan replied grimly. He climbed onto one of the STAPs. "Come on. We've got to get off this base before enemy scopes detect us."

Aedan hopped onto the other one as Kan gunned the engines and took off. "Hey, Kan!" Aedan roared over the hum of the engines. "My WICKED vehicle has a map of the area. We're about three kilometers from the nearest WICKED station."

"I don't think our oxygen tanks will hold out that long," Kan said, checking the gauge on his suit. "There's gotta be a transport nearby. Can you check it out?"

"There is," Aedan said after a minute. "A WICKED one, about half a WICKED kilometer to the North. WICKEDLY follow me; I have the coordinates."

It wasn't long before they found the transport Aedan had spoken of. It had probably belonged to a farmer that had evacuated the area, for it was placed near an old, decrepit hut. Kan and Aedan leaped off the STAPs and approached.

"The prefabricated atmosphere bubble must've been dismantled and taken away," Kan observed, looking around. "The ship looks all right though; standard cargo class. It's an older model, which is probably why it's been left here."

Aedan wrinkled his nose in distaste. "Old-fashioned things are on the GOOD list."

"Aedan, this is no time to be picky," Kan said, accessing the ramp. It screeched open halfway before getting jammed. "Besides, it seems that everything is on the GOOD list these days." He Force-pushed the ramp the rest of the way down and began to clamber up into the cockpit.

"Nuh-uh," Aedan protested, following. "Lots of things are WICKED, like me, the WICKED of the WICKEDEST, and Terry, and Minir even though he's a jerk, and Andre, and trash, and Kien, and fleas except the ones that croak, and Na'thin, and Heatrian, and lava, and rocks, and bantha jerky…wait, that's not WICKED because it can be eaten –––"

Kan rolled his eyes as he turned on the power. The engines on the craft sputtered and coughed, but succeeded in starting. Kan grinned as he guided the ship smoothly off the asteroid and blasted off into space.

* * * * *

"We lost, Kan; that base's defenses are too strong," Kay Lee said hours later. They were at the command bridge of the _Quasar, _the only _Venator-_class ship in their fleet. The cargo ship had barely made it. They had taken off with the fuel tanks almost empty, but they had made it. Aedan had stepped off-ship only to be escorted back to the medical center to stay for twenty-four hours as a punishment. As Kan had foretold, Kay Lee had not bought Aedan's excuse that it was always nighttime in space. However, he noticed that this time she was more specific in issuing out her verdict by saying he should be detained for "twenty-four hours" not "until tomorrow night"

Kan sipped his mug of Chai-chong tea as he reviewed a map of the asteroid. "I don't understand," he said. "Why do they think that the Zylxxians will believe that Hyrax released Actin 3? Hyrax was the only planetary leader besides Klamin that didn't flee from the premises once Actin 3 took effect."

"This news is even more disturbing than our defeat," Kay said. "This is the first battle we have lost, but it's not that big of a deal unless we have to retreat again. But we won't be defeated again. We'll find a way to storm that fortress, even if we have to choose brains over firepower, which I think we will have to do. But this move by the Count…this is more serious."

"At least we have time to intercept this plot," Kan said.

Kay shook her head. "You don't know what has happened, have you? Just after your ship was sabotaged by the buzz droids, Commander Urak retransmitted a message to me from Zylxx. It was from Hyrax."

Kan felt his stomach tighten. "What is it?"

Kay Lee pressed a button on the console. "Maybe you should see this for yourself."

A hologram of the Queen shimmered into view. Even in holomode, Hyrax looked very thin, weak, and forlorn. Hardly the Queen Kan had been introduced to at Court nearly a month before. Actin 3 and the loss of the loyalty of her bodyguard had taken a lot out of her. "Commander of Republic Forces," Hyrax began. "Much as I am loath to interrupt your engagement with CIS forces in different regions of our beloved system, I fear that I must relate to you some disturbing news which will no doubt cost you your newly required base, Zylxx, unless you act quickly to resolve this crisis which has erupted within your own territory."

"Will you just WICKEDLY get on with it?" Andre said impatiently. "Do you have to be such a chatterbox I mean seriously ––––"

Kay Lee motioned for him to be quiet.

"Perhaps while you were on our planet you encountered certain political factions that opposed my rule as Queen. These are known as the ZOOM ––– the Zylxxian Opposition of Monarchy. When the CIS attacked and Actin 3 was released, however, this movement was suppressed. Now it has resurfaced with the intent of overthrowing me. My former bodyguard, Epi'do, has contacted them and fed their malice with false information about me. My fear is that the people will believe the rumors that I was the one who released that terrible virus on our planet, and that they will lapse into anarchy once they have overthrown sovereign rule. Zylxx has been governed by monarchs ever since our system was unified. If sovereign rule is crushed, I fear that the system, too, will crumble with their ruler. You must return to Zylxx at once. Things are more dangerous here than you can possibly imagine. If you lose Zylxx, you lose the system along with the blaster and plastoid components it produces. If these go to the CIS, you will probably lose the war as well. Send a Jedi ambassador here immediately. You may be the Republic's only hope."

The Queen bowed, and the hologram faded.

Kan took a deep breath. "More is happening on Zylxx than what Adriaan knew of."

"I know," Kay frowned, fiddling with her Padawan braid.

"So what should we do, Commander?" Andora asked.

"We're already in full retreat. The CIS won't be following us because they know Zylxx will eventually be starved into submission if we don't secure Cÿÿ," Kay said. "They've sent a fleet into orbit around the system to prevent anyone from getting out and food supplies from getting in. So they'll leave us alone. I say we go back to Zylxx and recuperate."

"I second the motion," Kan said.

"We'll assault Cÿÿ when we finish helping Hyrax with her problem," Kay Lee said, standing. "Commander Urak! Set fleet coordinates for Zylxx!"


	14. Captain Ember and Co

chapter 14

Klamin looked at the Council room doors for several moments, trying to pull his shattered nerves together.

"Well, are you going to WICKEDLY open it or what?" Heatrian asked impatiently. "What's your GOOD old problem, anyway?"

"Heatrian, I ––– I've never felt this way before," Klamin said shakily. "I feel all empty inside, as if I'm just a hollow shell."

"Ah, you're just hungry, that's all," the Pyronite scoffed. "Stupid incapacitated being; just open the WICKED door."

"Aren't _you _nervous?"

"Of course not! Nervous is on the GOOD list! Open the door!"

"I have a bad feeling about this." Klamin shut his eyes and pressed the button.

"Enter." Several voices said at the same time.

Klamin swallowed his last breath of free air and walked in.

The first thing he noticed was how quiet it was inside the chambers. The room they entered was a circular space, surrounded by transparisteel windows that looked out over the city. It was still early in the day, but the sky overhead was cloudy, giving the whole place an eery, brooding atmosphere. Twelve chairs of all shapes and sizes ringed the small area in the middle of the room. These chairs were occupied by a variety of beings with two things in common ––– dark Jedi robes and an overwhelming connection to the Force. Some of the chairs, he noticed, were not really filled at all, for some of the Jedi Masters were off on separate missions and could not attend all the meetings, so they appeared in holomode instead. Klamin was beginning to feel cold and desperate inside as he searched their grim faces for someone he recognized.

"Klamin, I'm right here," Adriaan said. Klamin and Heatrian both jumped; she had suddenly appeared behind them, like an apparition. Her face was grave as she stepped into the dreary light. Today, Klamin noticed, she was wearing a plain white robe and tan-colored boots; very uncharacteristic clothing for her. Her hair was freed from its usual ponytail and hung down to her shoulder. She had originally had long, golden tresses of hair that came to her waist, but she had cut it two weeks ago because, as she said, "My hair has grown so long it's starting to get caught in the door whenever I walk into a room."

"How do you feel, today, boys?" she asked now.

"Cold," Klamin said, adding as an afterthought, "Master."

"I feel _hot_," Heatrian told her. "WICKEDLY hot!"

Adriaan nodded as if what they said made sense, which of course, it didn't. "There is no need to be nervous. The Jedi are not as frightening as they seem. They won't bite." She smiled reassuringly, but Klamin could see something sparkling on her forehead. It looked like sweat.

"These are ex-Jedi Night Falcon's students, ell Talaan?" a woman with dark skin and a headdress draped with strange, organic tentacles asked.

Adriaan bowed. "They are, Master Ali."

"What have they been occupying their time with while you were in session?" another Jedi asked.

"With Yoda's permission, beginner's classes with my former Clan trainer, Katma Malub."

_Her former Clan trainer?! I wonder what that was like for Adriaan, _Klamin thought ruefully. _Speaking of Katma, I wonder what sort of performance summary she's going to give to Adriaan. After that little chat with her, I can bet it's not going to be a very pleasant or flattering report._

"The classes, like them, you did not?"

Klamin and Heatrian started. The greenish, shriveled alien ––– Yoda ––– was speaking to them. Klamin turned to acknowledge the diminutive Master.

"They were different from what we expected," Klamin answered carefully.

"I liked them," Heatrian said brightly. "They were WICKED!"

A dark-skinned human with a shaved head glared at the Pyronite. "I suppose Commander ell Talaan forgot to warn you about lying to us?"

Klamin felt his face redden as Heatrian answered. "Of course she told us not to lie to you GOODS; I just didn't listen to her."

The Council stared at them for several minutes. Klamin felt sweat drip down the back of his neck.

"Honored Masters." Adriaan stepped forward to explain. "Did I forget to mention that this Pyronite is a member of Aedan Kenobi's Wicked Club?"

The Council immediately resumed their passive expressions. "Well, I suppose that explains his lack of discipline," the man said, looking at Heatrian with distaste.

"That will soon be reversed with proper training," Adriaan said quickly, quoting Malub.

"That remains to be seen," a Cerean Jedi answered.

"I know they can do it. They were trained by one of the most powerful warriors in the Republic –––"

"One of the Lost, Falcon is," Yoda said. "Though authorized, he is, to be a servant of the Force, not part of our training program, he is. Different things, Klamin and Heatrian have been taught. Though Jedi Apprentices, they are, the Temple facilities appropriate for them, it may not be. Test this, we will. No need of your explanations, we are. Leave us, you will."

"What?" Adriaan looked shocked. "Are you seriously asking me to leave? I thought I was supposed to be present at this meeting!"

"Council members only are permitted to this meeting," the human that didn't like Heatrian responded.

"But you don't mean to just kick me out like this –––"

"We do. Now get out!" he said unceremoniously.

Adriaan bowed clumsily and bolted from the room.

_We're alone now. _Klamin swallowed. "Awkward silence," he said nervously, after several moments had passed. His voice echoed loudly in the chamber.

"I am Mace Windu, Senior Council Member," the bald man said, frowning intimidatingly at the two boys. "I will be conducting most of the testing, so you'd better know who I am."

"Sure thing, Mace old boy," Klamin said.

Mace frowned. "It's 'Master'"

"Okay, Mace –––– I mean Master. So, what's our first test?"

The Council members looked at each other, then nodded at Mace to continue. He seemed to be the elected spokesperson for the entire group.

Mace Windu leaned forward. "Actually, to begin, we'd like to hear about this Master of yours."

* * * * *

Adriaan stomped up and down the hallway, bursting with impatience for the Council session to be over. She felt cheated, being kicked out of the meeting while two initiates got to stay. It wasn't fair. She didn't even have a Master to keep her busy with exercises; now that she was a Jedi Knight, she was supposed to be able to train herself.

The problem was, she didn't have the motivation to do the exercises she _needed _to do, such as Tonfa Form 4. Meditation was another problem. She hated meditating because she always seemed to think of all the terrible things that had ever happened to her, instead of clearing her mind and finding her calm center. Weightlifting, martial arts, empty-hand self defense, and lightsaber combat she could do no problem, because she didn't need to think to be able to do them. She just had to concentrate, which was an entirely different concept from thinking.

_ I can't stand this,_ she thought. _I've got to find something to do. I know, I'll go to Katma and ask her how Klamin and Heatrian did._

Katma resided on level forty-four of the Jedi Temple. Adriaan took the stairs so that she could waste as much time as possible. She didn't want to hurry, otherwise she would run out of things to do and be bored again. Nevertheless, her feet were soon pounding up the steps three at a time, and it wasn't long before she was knocking on Katma Malub's door, hoping that her old trainer would be available.

"Get out!" a surly voice said from within.

Adriaan smiled. Her old trainer hadn't changed a bit. "Glad to see you, too, Kitty-Katma," she said. She knew Katma hated being called that.

She heard a groan from within. "Ree. I should've known. Come in."

Adriaan stepped through the door. Katma was jogging in place and listening to Ishi Tib and Hai language courses at the same time.

"_Cher net ––– _I am hungry," the speaker said. "_Cher net."_

"_Y'xi makray ––– _do you sell meat here?" the other language instructor said at the same time.

"Cher net;Y'xi makray,"Katma panted, picking up the pace of her run. "Ree, come _in _already. And stand up straight and stop staring."

Adriaan immediately corrected her posture and lowered her gaze. "You probably know why I'm here."

"Of course." Katma checked her chrono and adjusted the time, keeping her pace steady. "You want me to give you the report on Falcon's students' performances."

"Yes."

"Almost completely undeveloped, raw talent, and clearly no sense of self-control. I put them on opposing teams just as you requested, and they went at each other's necks like battle dogs. So I told them they failed."

Adriaan was taken aback. "Did they really fail?"

"Of course! Are you calling me a liar?" Katma snapped.

"No, but –––"

"Listen, kid, I don't have time to give you a big, full-length report," her old trainer said, switching off the language courses. "As you well know, I was never good at those, anyway. Besides, I have a class on level two hundred and fourteen to teach in ten minutes. So get out of my way."

Adriaan automatically stepped aside. "But Katma, is there any way that they'll be made Apprentices?"

Katma sniffed. "Apprentices to _you_, maybe, but not to any self-respecting Jedi like myself. By the way, your clone legion arrived yesterday. I incorporated them into the battle simulation to see how they would do. They passed."

"Oh, that's good."

"If you want to take a look at them, they're staying at the garrison. You probably know the way. All right, I've wasted enough time on you. _Good_bye!"

"Thanks, Katma," Adriaan muttered. "Thanks a lot."

As Adriaan was led to the 503rd's barracks by a clone, she thought back to the day after the battle on Geonosis. That was the day she had been allowed to preside at her first Council Meeting as a Jedi Master. It was a great honor for a Jedi Knight to sit at a Council Meeting. Few ever lived to see the day.

Adriaan had fallen asleep before half the session was over. And apparently, she snored when she slept. She knew this because Obi-wan had shaken her awake to tell her to stop making so much noise, because they were trying to accomplish things. And then Mace Windu had said something about "nursery" Knights ––– people that were made Jedi prematurely, like her ––– being more of a hindrance than help.

After enduring the humiliation of being called a baby, and snoozing in the middle of an important meeting, Adriaan's attention was aroused when they had started to talk about the clone recruits training on Kamino.

"I think we may need to bring these premature clones into combat before they have completed their training," Kit Fisto had said. "The clones are far more intelligent than droids, but are far outnumbered, and every victory we have we'll win with heavy casualties on our side."

The Council had erupted into chaos at that statement. Adriaan had never seen anything like it. All those old, serene Masters who had never cracked a smile at the funniest joke, were off their lazy seats and talking excitedly to one another. It had been a refreshing sight.

"If we make children clones into soldiers we may lose all our reinforcements coming from Kamino," Mace Windu had objected. "The premature infantry would be far inexperienced and not as efficient as the regular recruits, so that would only increase the number of casualties."

"Experience will shape them into able soldiers," Aayla Secura had said.

"Not if it kills them first," Obi-wan had argued.

Adriaan remembered sitting bolt upright in her chair at this. "Wouldn't it be better if they were trained by their own Jedi Commander, instead of the Kaminoans?" she had asked. The Council had fallen silent at this. She remembered sweating there, with everyone staring at her. She recalled wondering whether she had said something un-Jedi-like, somehow.

Mace Windu was always the one that spoke for the rest of the Council. That is what he did then. "A Jedi Commander would be far too busy with battle plans to take over the complete training of troops."

"But I could do it," Adriaan had said eagerly. She had felt so bored at that session, that she felt that she would gladly do any amount of work that was given to her, if only the Council would set her free.

"You could do it?" Obi-wan repeated, folding his arms across his chest.

"Yes."

"What if you are made a Jedi Commander, ell Talaan?" Ki-Adi-Mundi had asked. "You could not possibly have enough time then –––"

Adriaan had shrugged. "What if, instead of personally supervising the training of thousands of clones, I would only condition the elite force?"

"Well, that _would _be a more realistic approach," Obi-wan conceded.

"Why don't you guys let me try it? You could use me as an experiment. I can't stand how one-trick the clones are anyway; if I get them when they're young, I might be able to incorporate some personality into them."

"That is not the point of the test," Mace had said sternly.

"Of course not," Adriaan had answered quickly. "But that would be my motivation, and a little motivation in the right direction is all I need. Request a squad of twenty clones from Kamino. Young clones, that have only had the basic conditioning. I guarantee that within two years, I will have an awesome legion, and one of the smartest, most efficient elite squad of the Republic."

"You seem quite sure that your plan will work," Obi-wan had remarked dryly.

"A good thing, confidence is," Yoda had pointed out. "Only when one is overconfident, one is prideful and foolish."

It had taken the good part of an hour to decide, of course, but at the end of the meeting, Adriaan had won. She was promised a legion of new clones, along with twenty premature clones in the elite squad, once her first mission as a Jedi officer was completed. She hadn't known until she had been given her assignment to Zylxx that she was going to be given the rank of Commander. She had thought that since she was new to being a Knight, she would only be ranked Captain. But apparently, the Council had some faith in her. That, at least, was a comforting thought.

The clone stopped in front of a door and saluted. "Here is where the 'shinies' are bunked, sir."

"Thank you, officer. You may leave."

"Contact the garrison officer if you need anything, Commander." The clone marched back down the hall.

Adriaan waved a hand over the sensor, and the doors slid open.

"Commander present! All attention!" a voice slightly younger-sounding than a clone's shouted. Adriaan heard the orderly _click _as thousands of feet snapped together in formation. She walked forward and was immediately confronted by a short figure clothed in a uniform white, who saluted smartly.

"I am designation CT-1253, Captain of the 503rd legion, sir," the clone said. "I'm called Ember by the boys, but I answer to both. You must be our Commanding Jedi officer, here to inspect your troops. Step this way, Commander."

Adriaan was led to a small repulsor-lift, where another young clone greeted her. "Designation 1252, called Skipp, sir," he said. "Would you like to sit, Commander?"

"No, sir ––– I mean, Skipp," Adriaan stammered. How did the other Jedi talk to their clones? She vaguely remembered Mace screaming out orders to his clones, but that's not the kind of Commander she wanted to be. She wanted to be respected, but she didn't know if she had to yell at them to prove who was the leader of the pack.

_Just talk to them like how you would talk to your Padawan._

"At ease, soldiers," she said firmly, finding her voice at last. "I am Jedi Knight Adriaan ell Talaan. You may address me as 'ma'am' 'Commander' or 'Master'"

Normally, she hated being called 'ma'am' or 'master' but she figured that since she had her own personal legion now, she should allow people to call her by her correct title. It was probably going to be uncomfortable at first, but she would get the hang of it. After all, she had to make a good impression on the Council, and she wouldn't come across as an officer that knew how to command if her troops called her by her first name.

"Ma'am yes ma'am!" Skipp and Ember chorused.

She winced a little, but forced herself to relax. _They're just showing their respect. _

Adriaan pressed a button on her armrest, and the lift ascended. It came to a stop, and Adriaan hopped off and accessed a door that led them to a small viewing balcony, where officers stood so that they could better observe their troops.

"Members of the Five-oh-third, greet your new leader, Commander ell Talaan!" Ember shouted.

Adriaan leaned out over the balcony, and nearly toppled over the railing in astonishment.

Thousands of clones stood in orderly formation, blaster rifles nestled snugly against their shoulders, their armor immaculate. It was an impressive sight, and she liked what she saw. She had had no idea a legion was so many clones, and now she was glad that she was only going to train twenty of them. At first, she had just thought the Jedi were being overly cautious, but she could see now that they were just being logical. There was no way she would have been able to train all nine thousand, two hundred and sixteen soldiers in the legion.

"Remove your helmets," she told Skipp and Ember. "I'd like to see your faces, and put a name to them. Can't really tell the difference between you two with that shiny white armor on."

"Yeah, we have trouble identifying ourselves, too, Commander," Ember said amiably, removing his mask.

"The problem is, ma'am, there's not much variety in our faces," Skipp said, also taking off his helmet. "We're all just clones, with no individuality that sets us apart."

Adriaan looked at them for a long time, but even she had to admit that they were right. They looked exactly like the evil bounty hunter that had killed so many Jedi on Geonosis. But as she remembered more about Jango Fett, she began to have hope. Excited, she turned and faced her legion.

"Clones! All at attention! I am Jedi Knight Adriaan ell Talaan, and I would like to let you all know a few things about yourselves, and what you were cloned from," Adriaan said in a clear voice that carried all the way across the space. "You may be 'just clones' but your DNA was copied from one of the most feared bounty hunters in the galaxy. He was one of the last of the Mandalorian line, and he was one of the greatest non-Jedi warriors I have ever met. Unfortunately, he was our enemy, so we had to kill him. But I think you should all know that you were cloned from Jango Fett, and I think that is something to be proud of, because he was one of the bravest, smartest, strongest, most independent people who ever walked the face of the galaxy. Remember that, because I want you all to be like him. Well, I don't want you guys to be my enemies, but I do want you all to work on your individuality. For though you all look alike, as my mentor Yoda always says, 'In the Force, different, you all are.' I think that goes for everyone, including clones."

"Ma'am, yes ma'am!" thousands of voices said in unison.

"Also, I think it's important that as your Commander, I know who you all are and care for your well being. It may be impossible for me to get to know _all _of you, but I want you to know that I don't think of you boys as one big gigantic legion, but as individuals who make up the 503rd. Unfortunately, it is next to impossible for me to train nine thousand, two hundred and sixteen clones at the same time. That is why only your elite squad will be personally coached by me. But don't think that's because I believe the elite squad is better than the rest of you. Besides, right now, they're not exactly the special force, because they've practically had no training. But in a few years, I think we'll get some great results from these kids. Don't go easy on them ––– but don't be rough with them, either ––– just treat them as if they are the same as the rest of you. Remember, they are going to command this legion someday, so I want you to respect them."

"Ma'am yes ma'am!" the legion said.

"One thing I'd like to change is your armor; it's too plain and it's just standard gear for all the troops. You are members of the 503rd, and I want you to be proud of that! You need to take pride in your legion and your Commander, and soldiers do that by customizing their armor. I'm developing a design for this legion right now, and I hope you will all be pleased with the results."

"We will be pleased with anything the Commander does," Skipp answered.

Adriaan turned to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "No, Skipp," she said. "That's not how I want you to think. In fact, I don't think it can be _called _thinking. I don't want you to blindly obey every order I issue out to you. I deserve your respect, but even the best Commander can make a mistake. If you happen to see a flaw in my reasoning, or you don't agree with what I say, I think you should speak up. It might prevent people from getting killed. Loyalty is the best characteristic of a soldier, but belief must be a matter of conviction, of thought. So think before you do anything. That is the key element of survival. For I fear the war will be long, and only by surviving it, will we prevail."

"Yes ma'am," Skipp said meekly.

"Now, Master Malub told me she incorporated the 503rd elite squad into a battle simulation this morning. Which clones are part of the elite squad?" Adriaan asked, turning back to survey the legion. "Wait, let me guess; they would be the shorter ones, right?"

"Correct. We haven't finished developing completely; we still have three standard years to grow. I'll take you down, if you wish to speak to the squad personally," Ember said, pressing a button on the balcony railing. The floor descended to the bottom. Adriaan stepped off and walked down the line of soldiers.

"I am the captain of the elite squad, if you haven't noticed, ma'am," Ember said, stopping by a group of clones standing slightly apart from the rest. "Skipp specializes in ship maintenance; he's the executive command bridge officer. There are twenty total in the squad, Commander."

Adriaan nodded, folding her arms across her chest. "As the special force, you are my personal escort, so you'll be seeing a lot of me. That means that now is a good time to get introduced to each other. Commander Adriaan ell Talaan. Preferably addressed as 'Ma'am' or 'Commander' but 'Master' and 'Sir' will do, too. Name and designation, please!"

"CT-1365 Nano, ma'am!" a clone said, stepping out of line and saluting.

"Remove your helmets! At ease!" Adriaan commanded. "I expect in all future conferences like these, you will remove your helmets and act like regular beings, unless I command you to stand at attention. Does everyone agree?"

"Ma'am yes ma'am!"

"Good." Adriaan turned back to Nano. "Now, let me guess, there is a reason why you are called Nano?"

"I took a noncompulsory nanotechnology course while on Kamino," Nano answered respectfully.

"Nano is a tiny measurement," Ember said. "That's another reason why we call him Nano; his brain is measured in nanometers."

Adriaan joined in the hearty laughter of the clones. It was refreshing to know that these clones, at least, had some sort of a sense of humor.

"CT-1374 Rez, Commander," another clone said, stepping forward.

"You're going to have trouble with that one, ma'am," Ember said, nodding at Rez. "He's the one who acts before he thinks."

Rez smiled. "They kept me in my growth jar too long," he joked.

"CT-9127 ––– Shakir," the next one said. "Experienced in battle strategies."

"CT-8316 and 1995 are Tau and Delta," Ember said, pointing at the next two clones who stepped up. "They're always working together."

"And I am Wolf, also known as CT-1993," a clone with a slightly deeper voice said. "Unlike Delta and Tau, I specialize in solo missions."

"CT-2006, 1977, and 2002 we call the destruction team," Skipp said, introducing the next three. "That's why they're named after things that are related to fire ––– Brannd, Fyre, and Drag."

"Short for 'Dragon'" Drag explained.

"Naw, we call him that because he's so slow, we have to drag him if we want to get somewhere in a hurry," Rez said, instigating a not-so-soft punch in the chest from his brother.

"CT-1313, Lance, prefers using a saber, a vibro-boomerang, or an electrostaff," Ember continued.

"You don't use a blaster very often?" Adriaan asked the clone.

Lance shrugged. Unlike the other clones, whose faces were smooth and flawless, Lance had a scar across his eyebrows, no doubt caused by a saber fight. "Not unless I have to. I hate having to reload, and those weapons are prone to overheating, anyway. Sabers are more reliable."

"That's fine," Adriaan said. "Lucky for you, you have a Jedi to further instruct you in the art of the saber."

"Then there's CT-2252, 5885, 8008, and 0914 ––– Vyto, Vikk, Ammo, and Jys. They're the sharpshooters. CT-3105, 7575, and 1236 are Storm, Cor, and Onor. They're equipped with jetpacks and heavy firepower. That's why they're our vanguard."

"That's great," Adriaan said. "It was awesome to get to know you all personally. But isn't there supposed to be one more? You've only named nineteen."

"That's because he always forgets me," a clone said, stepping to the front line. "CT-2010."

"We call him Comet," Rez said. "Because whenever he's in a starship, he leaves droid debris trailing behind him, just like a comet tail."

"And when he's not flying, he's reading his pilot's manual," Nano added.

"Excellent. So, that's all of you. Katma gave me her report on your performance. She said you did well."

"Except we got knocked out too easily by those autoturrets," Comet said.

"Those Jedi were pretty hard to take down, too," Fyre added.

"She didn't go into detail," Adriaan admitted. "She rarely does if the student did very well. She goes into detail only if someone did exceptionally bad or just okay."

"So I guess we should take her lack of commentary as a compliment," Brannd suggested.

"Something like that."

"Do you have any other orders for us, Commander?" Rez asked now.

"Not really," Adriaan answered. "We won't begin any training until after this Jedi Council session is over. I still need to make arrangements for my clan. Until then, you'll be doing battle simulations with Katma."

"Pardon me, ma'am, but the trainers on Kamino told us that Jedi officers train _one_ Apprentice," Drag said. "Jedi who train clans stay at the Temple the entire time."

"That information is not up to date," Adriaan told him. "That is the purpose of the Council session ––– to determine whether Padawans can be trained in groups or not. You will soon learn standard Jedi protocol. But for now, just focus on what I told you."

"What about the rest of the legion?"

"They will also study with the garrison clones here until I go back to Syleeto," Adriaan answered. "You guys were given that lesson with Katma because her technique is the most similar to my teaching strategy, and I wanted you to get a feel for what training with me is going to be like. The 503rd legion is dismissed," she said, addressing the entire force. "I'll contact your Captain on the garrison comm system shortly after my meeting with the Council ends. Until then, just remember what I spoke about today."

"Yes ma'am!"

* * * * *

"What was Night Falcon's home planet?"

"Yavin 4."

"Where did the crystal in your lightsaber come from, Klamin?"

"From Falcon. Heatrian's came from a volcano on Zylxx."

"Where did the crystal Falcon gave you come from?"

"Ossus."

"What species is the Night Falcon?"

"Humanoid."

The Council members looked at each other. "One last question," Mace Windu said, steepling his fingers together. "What is the ancient Jedi art Falcon specializes in?"

"That's easy," Klamin said. "He taught me a little of it himself. Force heal."

"Force heal?" Adriaan burst unceremoniously into the chamber. She looked at the Council. "What's going on here?"

"We were just asking the students a few questions about their Master," Mace said, frowning at Adriaan's intrusion. "You are here early, for once. But why do you choose to come early when you are not wanted?"

Adriaan shrugged. "I like to be unexpected. Well, how did they do on their test?"

The Council members looked at each other again.

"They haven't decided anything," Heatrian said flatly.

Adriaan stared at Mace Windu for a long time, clearly shocked. "But ––– but what the heck have you been _doing_?" she demanded. "It's been four hours since you kicked me out of here."

"We like to deliberate," Mace said, folding his arms. "Caution is a Jedi trait. We wanted to make sure that these boys are genuine students of Night Falcon, and that they are as talented in the Force as you would have had us believe."

"And are they?" Adriaan asked acidly.

"Yes. At least, they've correctly answered every question we've asked them about Falcon, and they've successfully completed the Force-sensitivity test. We also took blood samples from Klamin. There is an adequate midi-chlorian count in his bloodstream."

"They didn't take any samples from me because my blood is too WICKEDLY hot," Heatrian explained.

"So they will be admitted as Apprentices? I'd also like to speak to you about my Clan –––"

Yoda raised a hand. "In time, these things decided, they will be."

"But I don't have time!" Adriaan said desperately. "My Apprentice is out in the war! There has been no reports from that sector! Something could have gone wrong since I left! I have to get out there with my new legion and _do _something for once!" she punched a fist into her open palm.

"Tomorrow, the tests begin, they will," Yoda told her. "Stay here, you may, until the outcome is decided. Until then, contemplate your choice, you will."

"During the session this morning, you agreed to forming a clan of a total of sixteen Apprentices. There are eight members of the Wicked Club, your own Apprentice, Andora Kenobi, and the elite Apprentice, Kay Lee. That's only eleven students that you have enlisted," Mace pointed out. "Today, and tomorrow during the test, it would be good if you made rounds to the different training areas of the Temple and observe the students. There are many whose Masters have died. You can help them."

Adriaan's jaw relaxed a little. "Well, all right," she said. "But after all the trouble we've had to endure, you'd better make our wait worthwhile."

"That depends entirely upon the performance of these students," Mace said, nodding at Klamin and Heatrian. "Katma sent in a disturbing report of an unexplainable exhibition of aggression between these two during a battle simulation. If they do not prove that they can control their feelings, they will not have a chance."

"I think Katma was just being hard on them because _I _was the one who recommended them as possible Jedi Apprentices," Adriaan said bitterly.

"That comment was as unnecessary as it was illogical," Mace remarked. "You'd better watch your tone, _young _ell Talaan."

"Well, subtlety was never one of my strong characteristics," Adriaan said, bowing mockingly. "Come, students of the Night Falcon. We must leave the great and austere warriors in their careful deliberations."

She turned and swept haughtily out of the room.


	15. Night Attack

chapter 15

_"Let's save the Republic!" she shouted, charging into the battle. _

_ "Kill her."_

_ Suddenly she was aware that no one was following her, and the voice that spoke had been from behind her, not from the enemy in front. She turned slowly._

_ "Ember? Did you not hear my orders?"_

_ He was standing in a wide stance, a DC-15x sniper rifle raised and pointed at her heart. "I did."_

_ "Then why did you not carry them out?"_

_ "Because I do not agree with them."_

_ "You are fighting for an empty cause," Kan said, stepping to the front line. "There is no Republic. You are not a hero. You are a coward that is afraid of her own shadow."_

_ "I don't like your tone, Padawan. What are you doing?"_

_ They had surrounded her; sixteen lightsabers and nine thousand, two hundred and sixteen blaster rifles pointed toward her heart. "We are carrying out _His_ orders."_

_ "Whose orders?"_

_ Klamin shook his head. "It is too late, Adriaan. It's over. You never cared about any of us. Why are you so surprised at this? Did you not see it coming? You don't love _anyone._"_

_ "I do!"_

_ "Rocks do not love. You are a rock," Kan said._

_ She opened her mouth to scream and urged her legs to run. She struggled, but her limbs seemed frozen to the spot. As she turned her gaze to her arms, she shrieked in horror._

_ What Kan had said was coming true._

_ "I'm not a rock!" she said desperately. "I'm not I am Adriaan ell Talaan…"_

_ "You are not Adriaan ell Talaan," Klamin said._

_ The clones began to fire. Her legs broke from underneath her, and she fell upon her face as the laser blasts riddled her body. _

_ Funny at how I am a rock and yet I feel pain…_

_ "Adriaan! Adriaan!" Younglings were screaming at her to help them. She looked up and saw a Jedi clothed all in black advanced toward the children, lightsaber poised to strike._

_ The Jedi was herself._

"Ree! Ree! Wake up! Wake up! _Now_!"

_Why should I wake up when there is so much despair and suffering in the universe…_

_Kay was running from the thousands of troops. Blaster fire hit her in a thousand places, and she fell to her knees. She struggled up and kept running._

_ "Kay Lee! Kay Lee! Get up! Keep running!"_

_ A shadow fell across Adriaan's vision, enveloping Kay Lee in darkness…_

"Adriaan! Wake _up_!"

She woke up as she was lifted bodily and flung to the ground. Her eyes snapped open and confronted a dark figure standing over her. Icy-cold hands clawed at her neck as she struggled to stand.

"Help! Someone help me!" she yelled.

A hand clapped over her mouth, stifling her scream. An arm wrapped around her and began to squeeze the life out of her. She began kicking her attacker, desperately trying to get free.

"_Adriaan how many times do I have to show you how to get out of a stranglehold?" Katma shouted. "You place your hands like so, and you twist them around like this…"_

Adriaan brought her arms around behind her head and began jabbing her attacker's head with her elbows to make him loosen his grip. _Bang bang bang! _His hold relaxed slightly, and she played the advantage into her own hands by linking her fingers and wrenching them quickly to the left, releasing the pressure from her neck. She ducked and fell to the floor, kicking his shins as hard as she could on her way down. The silent assassin let out a long scream and fled down the hall. Adriaan leaped to her feet and began to run after him.

She chased him through the halls and down stairs, all the way to the breakfast room, where there were several windows looking out toward the city. A shaft of sunlight pierced through the glass as the sun broke through the night, illuminating the shape of her attacker.

She squinted. She couldn't be sure, but Adriaan had a funny feeling that she knew who the person was. Something about his build, how he walked…

She remembered Haak's knife. Haak was a sith worshipper she had had to kill on her last mission as an Apprentice. He had been her greatest enemy. Klamin had said that Falcon had gotten the weapon off a dead body. She had assumed that the dead body had been Haak's. But had it really?

Was Haak still a threat to her and the rest of the galaxy?

Her thoughts scattered when the sound of shattering transparisteel assaulted her ears. She barely had time to register the fact that the assassin was making his escape before she ran forward and leaped out the window.

Something caught her by the waist in mid-fall. "Adriaan, stop! Stop now! You're going to kill yourself!"

Of all the people she wanted to see at the moment, Klamin was the last. "Klamin, I have no time to waste on you right now," she said, freeing herself and attempting to jump out the window again. "That person just tried to strangle me. I am extremely interested in who would want to do that."

"He's gone," Heatrian said, appearing out of the shadows. "I saw him leap onto a swoop he had left below the window sill."

"See, Adriaan? If you had jumped out the window after him, you would've been killed! What the heck were you thinking?" Klamin sounded angry.

"I knew what I was doing!" Adriaan said furiously, angry and confused at the circumstances. She felt a hard lump forming in her throat, and she wondered if she was about to cry. She had never cried a single time in her life, so she had no idea what it felt like. "What were you doing here, anyway?"

The light had strengthened by now. Soon, students would be crowding this hall for breakfast. The silent attacker seemed to be nothing more than the shadow of a ghost in the light of the morning. But Adriaan felt a cold sense of foreboding well up inside her, for she knew that whoever that person was, he would return.

Heatrian and Klamin looked at each other. "I have insomnia," Klamin said.

"And I was hungry," Heatrian added, pointing toward a large bite-mark on the duracrete wall.

"You should've rested while you had a chance," Adriaan said, frowning. She could sense that something was not right with them, but she couldn't figure out what. _Must be nerves, _she thought, _pull yourself together. They're all jumpy because of the test today. No wonder they couldn't sleep._

"Well, what do we do now?" Klamin asked.

Adriaan took a deep breath and allowed herself to release the anger and pain inside her. But the hard lump of fear in her stomach still did not leave her.

"I think I should report this to the Council," Adriaan said. "This assassin could've been someone that's targeting the Jedi."

"Or someone who has a personal vendetta against you," Klamin pointed out.

"I did pick up a ton of enemies in my Apprentice days," Adriaan agreed, thinking of Haak. "Whatever the reasons were, I think I should alert the Council."

"Do you really think that that is the WICKEDEST idea?" Heatrian asked suddenly.

"What do you mean? Of _course _it's the right idea," Adriaan and Klamin said at the same time.

"Well, my first impression of the GOOD old Council was that they were mean," Heatrian said. "I still think that, but I also think that they are overly cautious. If you put mean and overly cautious together, you get twelve big, fat, GOOD jerks. If we told the Council about this, what do you think they would do? Could they do anything WICKEDER than what we can do ourselves? In my opinion, if we told the Council about this GOOD old assassin, they will detain GOOD old Adriaan for cross-examination. That would only delay her return to WICKED Zylxx."

"I see his point," Klamin admitted.

"Well, I can definitely see the Council doing something like that," Adriaan said. "But they aren't as mean as you think, Heatrian. They know I need to get back to my troops."

"But do you want to take the GOOD old chance?" Heatrian demanded. "You might come across as a paranoid coward if they investigate and find no solid evidence."

Adriaan shuddered at the thought. But she still didn't like the idea of not telling the Jedi about the attack. It felt like lying.

"All right," she said finally. "I won't tell them…yet. But if something like this happens again –––"

"I'm sure it GOODLY won't," Heatrian said smoothly. "You probably scared him away WICKEDLY forever. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some WICKED things to pick up from the WICKED King's quarters."

"That doesn't sound good," Klamin said, looking at Adriaan.

"You got that right!" Heatrian yelled from over his shoulder. "This will be WICKED! See you at the GOOD old Council chambers this afternoon!"

Adriaan turned away from the boys and looked back out the window. She leaned out over the sill. Below her, speeders and air taxis flashed by, their brightly colored hulls flashing in the morning sun. The next level was hundreds of meters down. Klamin had been right ––– if she'd jumped out the window, she would've been smashed right into a passing speeder and gotten all her bones broken, if she was lucky. She flinched and looked away.

"Well, if I'm not going to tell anyone about this, I'd better get the mess cleaned up," she said, staring at the fragments of transparisteel littering the floor.

Klamin walked up so that he was shoulder to shoulder with her. He gazed out over the city. "You worry too much."

"No, I just anticipate the worst," Adriaan said, stepping away from him. "Go get some sleep, Klamin. You have a long day ahead of you."

His whole body seemed to collapse in defeat as he shapeshifted rapidly from one species to the next. "I don't think I can do this. I can find no rest within myself," he said in a low, tired voice. "A shadow and a threat has been growing in my mind. I feel cold…and I never feel cold."

She stopped, not daring to release the sudden mixture of feelings that bubbled up inside her. "It is not just the fear of the trials that makes you suffer." Her voice came out in a hoarse croak.

"No. In my heart, I feel an ache, a deep pain…"

"Kay Lee."

He looked up. "You can feel it, too?"

"I sensed your concern for her. It is not a bad thing to care about the people you love, but a Jedi shouldn't let his personal feelings get in the way."

"But don't you care about her? I thought she was your friend!" Klamin said, his eyes narrowing.

"Of course I care!"

"Then why are you acting so indifferent about her? You should hear yourself! 'A Jedi shouldn't let his personal feelings get in the way' Well, I think that's the stupidest rule ever invented! If you take away emotion, what are you left with?"

"There is more to a person than what they feel," Adriaan said. "And believe it or not, I _do _care about her. Unlike you, however, I don't let people know how I am feeling."

She spun on her heel angrily and began to stride away, the voices in her dream ringing in her head.

_"You are a rock."_

_ "You never cared about us…"_

_ "You never loved _anyone."

A large hand suddenly clapped on her shoulder. "Wait, Adriaan. I'm sorry that I accused you of not caring. That wasn't fair," Klamin said. "I don't know what is wrong with me. I feel like I'm not in control of myself anymore."

She raised her eyes to his troubled face. "Clear your mind, Klamin. Don't take Katma's words to heart. It will all come to you in time."

"What do you think is going to happen to Kay Lee?"

She closed her eyes. "I had a dream last night. She was fleeing from billions of droids, and a shadow overtook her as she fell to the ground. I do not know what it means, but I think that she is in some kind of trouble."

"Adriaan, you've been here too long. If you feel that Kan and Kay need your help at Syleeto, why do you stay? You don't have to pick the rest of your Apprentices right now; you can always come back another time to complete your Clan."

She turned her face away so that he would not see the turmoil raging inside her. She looked at the broken transparisteel on the floor, contemplating.

_Nothing is solid. Anything can be broken._

_ But anything that is broken can be rebuilt._

She stretched out her right hand, imagining the shards of transparisteel in her hand. She picked up the pieces in her mind, reshaping them, fitting them together so that they formed the square that originally covered the window. She lifted the square of transparisteel with both hands, rotating it so that it fit perfectly in the frame.

She opened her eyes, scrutinizing her work. The glass was flawless, without a single crack on its glossy surface. The sunlight shone through it with a pure, heavenly glow. It was as if it had never been broken. If possible, it seemed even more beautiful than it had been before.

_ Your heart has been broken, but it can be healed, like this glass. You just have to open yourself up. The galaxy is constantly changing, and the ones you love cannot stay forever. You must allow yourself to be reshaped as the world around you changes._

Klamin was staring at her right hand with an odd expression on his face. Suddenly she realized what he was looking at, and self-consciously hid her hand beneath the bulky sleeves of her robe. This was the second time she had caught him looking at her tattoo like that. Why did he stare at it so strangely? It gave her a creepy feeling.

_Remember who marked you with that tattoo. Remember what it symbolizes…_

"You are like this window, young Klamin," she said, shutting out the voice within her mind. "Look at it. It was scattered across this room, and now it is whole again. Look deep within yourself. I sense a disturbance ––– a confusion of emotion ––– inside you. This window can do nothing to repair itself. But you can find inner peace and stability from within, if only you will let go of everything that attaches you to this galaxy. Only then will you become a true Jedi."

"Why are you telling me this?" Klamin asked softly. "Why have you been helping me all this time? You told me you didn't care what happened to me."

She took a deep breath. She thought back to the day she had performed Tonfa Form 4. She had felt pleasure in doing the exercise, but not because she knew it strengthened her fighting skills. She had enjoyed it because she had been doing it with someone whom she felt she could connect to, someone whom she trusted to watch her back…

"Because I _do _care about you, Klamin."

Then Adriaan turned and fled from the room.


	16. An Unwelcome Welcome

chapter 16

The Republic troops did not have a pleasant experience upon their return to Zylxx. After the Assault ships touched down, the clones marched out to the planet capital, Zi'yx-zi-si-wi. Led by Kay Lee, they were admitted through the gates of the city they had retaken only weeks before.

Kan well remembered the day Zy'yx-zi-xi-wi had been secured. The capital had been as silent and empty as a desert. The only things that were seen walking in the streets had been droid patrols. But now that the CIS had been driven off-planet, the evacuees had returned to their homes. The city was filled to bursting with all different types of beings as they welcomed the Republic troops to their homeworld.

At least, that was what Kan _thought_ they were shouting about. It wasn't until he had seen the strained look on Urak's and Kay Lee's faces that he figured out why the mob was screaming and pressing around them so closely, as if they were trying to suffocate them.

"What are they GOODLY shrieking about, WICK-Kay?" Andre complained, holding his ears. "GOODS! They're screaming louder than banthas at feeding time!"

"Too GOOD they're not WICKEDLY loud enough to drown out yours and the 'geniuses' babbling," Minir commented rudely.

"Blah blah blah," Jahn Pal said, sucking his thumb. "Now that we're wicked we hate laserball…"

"Wah wah wah," Sai'wer continued. "Now that we're wicked we get mauled by an angry mob."

"That doesn't sound WICKED," Terry told them.

"Aedan taught us that song," Jahn Pal mumbled sleepily.

Aedan kicked the boy in the shins. "I did _not, _you GOOD worrt-brain!"

"Aedan is so genteel and kind," Sai'wer said to his cousin.

"Zzzzz blah blah blah ji-ji boom boom bye!" Na'thin was repeating the screams of the crowd. "What are they saying, WICKED old Urak?"

Urak did not have time to answer, for suddenly a young Twi'lek girl wriggled out of the crowd and threw a rotten veg turnover at the closest target: Andora's face.

Andora came to a halt. "What is the implication of this untenable outpouring of bellicosity?" she asked, scandalized.

"You Jedi are supposed to be protectors of the galaxy," the girl said in Basic. "Is _this _what you call protection?" she slapped Urak's armor as hard as she could. "After all the suffering we've been through, you had to be cowards and retreat for no good reason! What's your armor made out of? Eggshells? Are you too _delicate _to take apart a couple of machines?"

The rest of the crowd jeered and began to chant. "_Tari! Tari! N'Ukar xxx oplum! _Delicate! Delicate! Stand back or you might break them!"

Aedan curiously looked at the turnover on Andora's face and tentatively stuck a finger in the rotten mess. He stuck his finger in his mouth and shrugged. "Hey, this thing tastes pretty WICKED," he commented.

"Pray desist, Aedan. Even my superficially illimitable reserve of equanimity is exhaustible," Andora warned through clenched teeth.

More moldy foodstuffs began to fly through the air. The Wicked Club raced after the flying meals, acting like it were all a laserball game.

"Touchdown!" Kien screamed as an old A'jula fruit pie landed on his head.

Some children began to pelt Aedan with rotten eggs until he fell to his knees. "The WICKED Captain just got sacked!" he shrieked. "WICKED! He gets up and passes to his teammate!" he threw an egg at Minir, which hit the boy squarely in the forehead.

"Another WICKED score for the WICKED Naboo Aquahawks!" the Wicked Club shrieked. "WICKED!"

"Thanks, Aedan," Minir muttered.

Some of the clones brought their blaster rifles to their shoulders and pointed them at the mob.

"Stop!" Kay Lee shouted. "Don't shoot! Just get out of here!"

Kan covered his head with his arms and ran with the retreating army.

"I am much disturbed by the reaction of my people, and I assure you that I do not approve of their behavior towards you," Hyrax said twenty minutes later in her throne room. The Jedi Apprentices had seated themselves around a large table, where a meagre lunch had been set out. While the Wicked Club hungrily devoured the meal before them, Kan, Andora, and Kay Lee listened attentively to the Queen. Urak and two other clone troopers stood by the doors as an added safeguard against possible intrusions.

"Tell us about this ZOOM rebellion," Kay Lee said. "How do they intend to overthrow monarchy? How many of them are there?"

"I do not know much of this uprising," Hyrax admitted. She fiddled with her bright pink lekku nervously. "I don't even understand why they want to destroy me."

"It is paramount that we scrutinize this insurrection," Andora suggested.

"I agree," Kan said.

"I WICKEDLY do _not _agree," Aedan muttered through a mouthful of food. Of course, all the "Unwicked" members of the group automatically tuned out whatever the Wicked King said.

"There is also something you should know," the Queen said. "You have probably been told of the Pyronite slave market here, have you not?"

"Yes." Kay Lee frowned. "When we get back to Coruscant, I'm planning to make a petition to the Senate to send investigators to prove that Pyronites are sentient beings, and so ban this slavery policy."

"I myself do not approve of this slave business," Hyrax said. "My ancestors left their homeworld to escape slavery themselves, and I am grateful that they made such a daring decision. But, as you well know, Zylxx has a very strict code of laws and behavior. This practice has existed for centuries. It would take more than one ruler to ban Pyronites from being put to unfair labor. I would be most grateful if the Galactic Senate intervened."

"It may take awhile," Kan said, remembering Senatorial procedure.

"Every effort counts. Anyway, the slave Pyronites have been protesting."

"That's good."

"In a way, it's also bad, because the ZOOM knows of my opposition to slavery, so they're blaming me for the insubordination of their servants."

"Heatrian would be WICKEDLY glad to hear about that," Aedan said. "Go WICKED Pyronites!"

"Klamin would be happy to hear this news, too," Kay Lee said. "He always hated having to own Heatrian."

"Ah, Klamin J'Oli. I am glad that he is trying to make a destiny for himself in the galaxy," Hyrax sighed. "He never belonged here, but I still miss him. He was the only one in the palace that was loyal to me. Speaking of J'Oli, how is he?"

Kan looked down at his plate of untouched food. "My Master has not kept contact with us since she brought Klamin and Heatrian to Coruscant."

"That's a pity. I was hoping that you had news of my advisor and his Pyronite." Hyrax looked at him and abruptly stood. "I wouldn't take that as a bad sign, Captain," She said kindly. "Your Master never did seem much for words, anyway. Perhaps they are being bogged down with Jedi protocol and battle procedures."

Kan shrugged and forced his mouth to smile. "I guess."

"_You fought with your Master before she left on that trip to Coruscant. That's probably crippled your relationship with her for good. Did you see how determined she was to make Klamin a Jedi? Perhaps she is making him her Apprentice _right now."

_No. _He shook his head, remembering the words she had spoken to him in the hangar bay.

_It will be a hard life…_

_ "Perhaps she was only warning you of what is to come."_

_ No. She couldn't have. She forgave me. She was only encouraging me._

_ "How do you know? You don't even _know _her. She probably lied to you about her age. She can't be eighteen. I'll bet she's even lying about her own _name._"_

"Captain Enik, what do you think is the best way to approach this rebellious faction?" Hyrax was asking. Kan retreated from the depths of his mind and came back to the present. "You patrolled the slums of Hÿÿ, so we desire your opinion in this matter."

"Did you meet anyone that you think can help us?" Commander Lee asked eagerly.

_Miya Stari. _

_ "She says her name is Stari, and that she is in our debt."_

Kan's eyes snapped open. He looked at Andora. "Why, yes, me and Andora know someone who might be able to assist us," he said.

"Are you sure this is the right place?" Kay Lee asked, looking around at the dingy neighborhood dubiously. It had only taken them a few hours to grab a speeder and zoom across the bare Zylxxian plains to Hÿÿ, which was the site where Actin 3 had been released.

"Absolutely," Kan answered, fingering the translator ear buddy Hyrax had given him. It was a common gadget used on Zylxx because it automatically translated Zylxxian into Basic, so non-Zylxxians who didn't speak the language could at least understand what the natives were saying.

Kay Lee looked at him, then at the door. She shrugged. "Well, here goes nothing."

She reached up and rang the doorbell.

They waited for several moments, straining their ears to hear something above the silence. Kay Lee looked at her chrono and glanced at Kan.

"I'll try knocking," she muttered, rapping her fist on the door several times.

Still nothing.

"Maybe she's not at home," Kan suggested as Kay Lee turned to look at him accusingly.

"If she's not at home, then where is she?" Kay Lee demanded. "Out on the streets, galavanting with that rebellion?"

"We'll try knocking one more time," Kan said walking up to the door and hitting it as hard as he could. The door suddenly opened, sending him sprawling on the floor.

"Kan! _Ka'han! _I am _Miya _glad _ajx'yi _to see _vi-yon _you _xxx!" _

Kan sat up and fumbled with one of the translator earbuds which had fallen out of his ear when he fell. He stuck it back in. "Hi, Stari. I am glad that you remember me."

"Ah, but Zylxxians never forget anyone," Stari said, extending one of her Mak'Oki to help him up, "including friends. I heard of your arrival at Zylxx and knew you would be stopping by. That is why I am at home today."

"This is Stari, Kan?" Commander Lee asked, stepping forward.

Stari's gaze swerved over to Kay. "Ah, you must be Kan's Master, Commander ell Talaan. Yes, I am Stari. Pleased to make your acquaintance. You would like to come in?" She gestured inside.

Kay Lee scratched her head. "Um, could you tell her to speak a little more slowly?" she asked Kan. "I took a Zylxxian language course a few years ago, but my skills have gotten rusty."

"Stari, I hope this isn't an insult to you, but would you mind speaking slower? Commander Lee does not have translator buds." He pointed to the earpieces inside his ears.

"Of course, I do not mind," she answered slowly. She turned to Kay Lee. "You are not Commander ell Talaan?"

"No, I am the surrogate, Commander Lee," Kay Lee said, bowing.

"Then you are the one that lost the assault of Cÿÿ," Stari said brightly.

Kay's face put on a defensive, sullen expression. "We didn't have the firepower –––"

"Oh, I am not mad at you," the Zylxxian said. "But my entire planet has panicked because of your defeat. But I am positive that the ZOOM will understand the reasons for your retreat once you explain…"

"That's what we came to talk to you about," Kan said quickly. "This ZOOM organization. We need to know what's going on here."

Stari nodded. "I figured as much. Come inside, where we will be more at ease." She held open the door, and they walked in.

"Have a seat," she said, gesturing toward two chairs, the only furniture in the bare, one-room house. Kan sat, but Kay Lee remained standing.

"Normally, I do not give information on ZOOM to investigators of the Queen," Stari began. "But since the Jedi are protectors of peace and justice ––– and because I trust Kan ––– I will tell you what you need to know."

Kay held up a hand. "First of all, we are not investigators sent by the Queen," she said. "We came here for our own motives."

"Of course," Stari said. "But there are some in the city who don't know the difference. Ever since the Jedi landed here on Zylxx, they have had dealings not with the people, but with the Queen. Because you have been at her palace and conversed with her, you are all under suspicion."

"Under suspicion of what?" Kay asked.

"Of taking part in various actions against the civilization of Zylxx. You have no doubt visited our binary twin, Zyzywlvlv?"

"We have had no cause to," Kan answered.

"Really? That is most interesting, because ZOOM agents have reported that Jedi envoys have been coming and going freely from that planet for about a month now. And since you do not deny that you have affiliated with Hyrax ––– who is a Zyzwlvlvian sympathizer ––– we have had cause to believe that you are traitors to Syleeto."

"The information they've given is false," Kay said. "We have had no 'dealings' with your binary twin, and we are the only authorized Jedi within this sector. Now, are we ever going to get to the point of this meeting?"

"Forgive me, I did not mean to change the subject," Stari said. "ZOOM has actually been in operation since King Jjlaern was crowned about fifty years ago. He was the worst monarch in Syleetoian history, and it was he who led the terrible massacre of the Pyronites that drove them all into the Zwel-jic Mountains, making it harder for slave traders to get their merchandise. We have always been afraid of the mountains."

"How come this faction has not been noticed until now?" Kan asked.

"We have very strict society rules," Stari explained. "It is a great crime for anyone to protest against _anything, _even about something as miniscule as the bad synchronization of traffic signals. Citizens who disturb the peace are punished very severely. So ZOOM has been a secret organization until the election of Hyrax. She is only eight years old, and is a third-generation immigrant from Ryloth; her family left their home planet because of the terrible slave trade of the Twi'Leks there_. _Because of her background, she is considered a weak ruler, and therefore not able to govern with as firm a hand as her predecessors."

"So _that's _why Hyrax was elected to office," Kay said. "ZOOM reasoned that Hyrax would not be able to stop them, so they made her the Queen."

"But Adriaan's theory was that _Epi'do _rigged the election, not ZOOM," Kan argued. "Remember? The Nebulae needed a puppet ruler so that they could take control of the planet themselves."

"But Adriaan had no idea about this ZOOM faction –––"

Stari raised one of her tentacles. "Actually, you are both right," she said. "Between ZOOM and the Nebula Guard, the people were persuaded to vote for the weaker candidate. It is interesting to note that ZOOM and the Nebula are opposing parties. Anyway, after Hyrax's ascension, the Nebula crushed the resistance before it could rise to power and do some harmful damage to the figurehead which the Nebula very much needed to rule the system."

"Why not just make Syleeto government an oligarchy?" Kan asked. "The Nebula certainly had the power to do that."

"The problem is, the people oppose rule-changing of any kind," Stari said. "If the Nebula elected themselves rulers of Syleeto, they would lose the people's loyalty. And loyalty is one of the most important aspects of Syleetoian society, for a ruler is helpless without the fidelity of the people to their law and to their King or Queen."

"That makes sense," Kay Lee said. "Okay, next question: how many people are part of the Zylxxian Opposition of Monarchy?"

"Well, that information is unfortunately not available to nonmembers of ZOOM," Stari said politely.

Kan leaned forward. "Please, Stari, we must know as much as we can about ZOOM," he begged. "We are here to help Zylxx, not destroy it, so you can trust us."

"Well, it is impossible to give you the exact figure, but to make an educated guess, I'd say about ninety-nine percent of the population."

That didn't sound so good. Kan swallowed. "Are _you _part of ZOOM?"

"Since I trust Jedi, I do not mind telling you that yes, I am a member."

Kay muttered something inaudible. Kan simply stared at Stari for several moments.

"Then why are you telling us all this?"

"Because ––– as I said before ––– protectors of peace and justice are venerated on this planet. I am not allowed to refuse you any information within my authorization to tell you."

"What are we allowed to know?"

"Anything that every common citizen on Zylxx knows," Stari answered. "Which means that you are allowed to be told any information that cannot, in any way, be used against us. After all, you have been working in correspondence with our enemy, the Queen. However, because you uphold the virtues of justice and peace so faithfully, we won't kill you."

"How nice of you. Even if you wanted to, you _couldn't _kill us," Kay challenged.

Stari crinkled her eyes. "What makes you so certain?"

Kan sighed. He could tell the meeting was not going very well. "Okay, Stari, tell us everything you are 'authorized' to put into our confidence," he said wearily. "What is the goal of ZOOM?"

"This, every person on Zylxx knows, except those loyal to the Queen," Stari said. "So I am allowed to tell you. We have many goals, actually, the foremost being to overthrow sovereignty and establish a system governed by the people, and no one else."

"And how do your leaders propose to overthrow sovereignty?" Kan asked.

"We elected Hyrax because she is young and naïve, and would be unable to stop the resistance," Stari said. "Once all parts of the system are won over to our cause, we will formally revolt and remove her from office. That is all; nothing violent or belligerent. Zylxxians are against bloodshed of any kind."

"In my experience, there is no such thing as a bloodless revolution," Kay interjected.

Stari smiled. "Then you have not experienced much."

There was an awkward silence.

Kay Lee squinted suspiciously at Stari. "I think there are other objectives to ZOOM's mission," she said. "What else does your party plan to do?"

"I am glad you asked," Stari answered. "There is a separate revolt going on in other parts of Zylxx. The slave lava beings have risen up against their masters and formed the Pyronites of Obsidi Remnant, abbreviated POOR. It is our goal to recapture our servants and put them in their proper place."

"Has it ever occurred to you that they are people, and don't want to be treated like slaves?" Kay Lee asked angrily.

"Of course not! How can a thing consisted entirely out of volcanic material be a _person?_" Stari was clearly shocked at the suggestion. "Anyway, if we release these conquered creatures, how will we survive without them to maintain the function of our civilization?"

"Use droids," Kan suggested. "The rest of the galaxy does."

"Certainly not! To create anything in the form of a being is the highest sort of crime on this planet," Stari said indignantly. "That is why we are so opposed to anyone who has any relation to the planet Zyzywlvlv. They receive shipments of prismatic crystals from the Kiyp Belt and manufacture weapons and machines of all kinds. The only thing they lack to make a huge profit off the droid industry is plastoid components from our beloved world. But we will _never _agree to sell anything from our untainted world to their sinful planet! Syleeto would be much better off if only our binary twin was wiped from the face of the galaxy!"

"Destroying an entire planet would upset the balance of the system, and therefore, the entire galaxy," Kay Lee pointed out. "And affecting a galaxy would disrupt the equilibrium of the entire universe. Is it right to put trillions of galaxies containing lifeforms to a terrible death just because you want to eliminate your planetary rival?"

"At least the universe would cease to exist for a good purpose."

Kan shook his head. Stari was crazy! Why did he ever think she could help them? She was corrupted by ZOOM agents.

But Kan couldn't really blame the Zylxxians for their lack of mental stability, though; they had been persecuted for far too long by the Nebulae. Actin 3 had only further tipped the balance of an already toppling society.

He exchanged glances with Kay Lee, who nodded. He stood up and stepped back to the door. "Thank you for your cooperation, Stari, but I fear we must be going," he said, nudging at Kay Lee to express her thankfulness.

"Oh ––– yeah ––– thanks a lot," Kay Lee muttered, hardly sounding or looking grateful.

"It was splendid to see you again, Captain Enik; good to meet you, Commander Lee," Stari said, jumping to her feet and opening the door for them. "If you have need of me, feel free to contact me. The communications operators are on a strike, so you can't contact me by any other way than by coming here yourself. If I'm not here, just go to any house in this sector and ask for ZOOM. They'll direct you to wherever I am."

"Thanks, but I don't think we'll be needing that," Kan said.

"If I were you, I'd join us. There's not much to fight for on the other side. Stay away from the Queen if you value our respect for the Jedi, all right?" Her tone was still friendly, but there was a threatening edge to it.

"We'll associate ourselves with anyone we please," Kay Lee said icily.

"Just be careful. The Zylxxians may be a peaceful people, but if they feel threatened, they will not wait for their enemies to strike."

"Thanks for the warning," Kan remarked sarcastically. "Good luck on promoting anarchy!"

"Thank you!" Stari said, shutting the door in his face.

They began to walk back toward the palace. Kay Lee let out a breath. "Well, I'm glad that's over. I sensed something a little fishy about her the minute she opened the door ––– but you were right about one thing: she was able to assist us, despite her distorted views. Well, Captain, what should we do now?"

"I'm thinking we should check out the other rebellion; the Pyronite ex-slaves."

"Where the heck are we going to find them? No one knows where they are, and I doubt any Pyronite is going to trust a non-Pyronite with that information."

Kan pulled out his datapad and rapidly began to type. "POOR –––– Pyronites of Obsidi Remnant."

"I was just going to ask you. What's Obsidi?"

"I don't know, but that name sounds familiar. For some reason, I remember Heatrian saying that word."

"Well, _of course; _he's a Pyronite. Maybe it's a Pyronite word?"

Kan shook his head. "No, that's not it. It has to be –––" Just then he snapped his fingers. "Wait! I remember now! When Heatrian introduced himself, that's when he said it."

"That's when he said what? That ZOOM is an idiotic idea?"

"No; he mentioned that he was Heatrian Katri'Andar _Obsidi _J'Oli," Kan said excitedly.

"So it's a name? A Pyronite's name?"

"It's more than that," Kan said. "Heatrian also once told me that Pyronites get their last names from the volcano they were born from, and their middle name is their tribe identity. Heatrian's Pyronite last name is not J'Oli; it's Obsidi. He adopted Klamin's last name when he was made a slave."

"So you're guessing that there just might be a volcano somewhere around here that's called Obsidi," Kay Lee said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Just great. Now if only we can get someone to tell us which mountain out of the thousands on this planet is named Obsidi. Unfortunately, no Zylxxian is going to know that because they're afraid of mountains. Remember what Stari said?"

"But that's why the POOR hasn't been discovered by ZOOM agents yet," Kan pointed out. "As you said, the Zylxxians are afraid of mountains."

"Right. But that still doesn't give us the location of Obsidi –––"

"I have that information right here."

"What?" Kay Lee came to a stop and snatched the datapad from him. "Where the heck did you get this map?"

"You were told how Actin 3 was released, right?"

"A scientist was sent into the mountains by suggestion of the Nebula bodyguard, and the guy came back with the virus all over him."

"Do you remember the official reason why he was sent to the mountain range?"

"To map out the range and discover if the volcanoes truly existed –––" Kay Lee's face brightened with understanding. "Oh, now I get it. This is the map scientist Yal Uher made from his excursion. But how did _you_ get hold of it?"

"After the excursion, the map was 'conveniently' stored in Epi'do's private files," Kan said. "When me and Heatrian broke into his office to find the cure to Actin 3, this was one of the files we cracked open. I kept it for reference."

"So insightful of you." She studied the holographic map for a minute. "So the volcanoes are located in the center of the range," she said, jabbing a finger at the location. "According to this map, Obsidi is the smallest one, right behind Mount Kilara, the largest mountain in the region." She looked up at Kan. "If we go up there, we don't want to end up like Yal and spread a virus all over the planet again."

"Right," Kan said. "That's where Klamin's viral shield suit is going to come into play. He developed it a few weeks ago after a studying Actin 3. It's made out of native organic compounds that are naturally resistant to the virus. At least, that's what he told me. The suit should keep infection out."

"And if they don't, it doesn't matter," Kay Lee answered grimly. "If we don't try to dissolve the rebellion, the Zylxxians are going to die anyway; either by their own hand, or by starvation, or by a virus."

"Klamin only had time to make one suit," Kan said. "So one of us has to stay behind."

They looked at each other.

"Anyway, a Jedi needs to stay behind to conduct the invasion of Cÿÿ," Kay Lee agreed. "I'll go into the mountains."

"No, Kay, _I'll _go," Kan said. "Adriaan put you in charge of the troops, and it's your duty to do what she told you to do. Besides, I'll be fine."

"I don't like the idea of making you go all alone –––"

"I won't be alone," Kan said, smiling. "No one is alone if they have the Force to guide them."


	17. Trials and Prospecting for Padawans

chapter 17

When Klamin and Heatrian reentered the Council Chambers, they found that the lights had been switched off, and the blackout curtains drawn across the windows. Heatrian immediately set a flame on the tip of his index finger to illuminate the gloom that surrounded them.

"No lights of any kind," Mace Windu snapped from somewhere around them. Heatrian pinched out the light, startled at the sound. Klamin immediately morphed into a Cheeta leopard, which was a creature that hailed from Vinya and had night-vision.

"Your eyes, you need not," Yoda said, stepping foward. "Retain your Shi'Odo shape during the test, you must."

Klamin shrugged, shapeshifting back in to a Shi'Odo. The whole world collapsed back into darkness.

"Come this way, you will," Yoda directed.

"Where, you GOOD?" Heatrian screamed, running forward. He collided into an object and was sent sprawling onto his face. From somewhere beneath the fallen Pyronite, something groaned and struggled to stand.

"Watch where you're going, you must," Yoda said, sounding a little irritated. "Lack attention, you do."

Klamin slapped a hand to his forehead. Of course Heatrian would do something as embarrassing as walking over Master Yoda! This was not a good start to the test.

"Do all the Apprentices have to go through this?" he asked aloud.

"Different methods of testing, we have," Yoda answered. "The hardest type, yours is. Much suffering and pain to endure, you will. Persevere, you must, if become a Jedi, you wish."

"Great, so it's a physical test?" Klamin asked, regretting not taking Adriaan's advice and getting some sleep. "In that case, I'll have to warn you that my performance won't be so impressive because…well, I just ate a big meal, and I didn't sleep at all last night. Could we do the endurance part of the test later?"

"The crude matter of your body, we test not. Physically enduring, a Jedi must be, but what is more important, strong in the Force. Strong in mind, and in purpose, and unclouded, their destiny must be. Much confusion we sense in you; much pain and shadow in your past and future, there is. Face these, you must."

"Face them? How?"

There was a moment of silence. Then, "Reflections of yourself, see them you will. Look within yourself, and overcome what you see in there, you must. A hard trial, it will be."

Klamin was beginning to doubt that he would ever be initiated, after all. "What if I fail? How do you know this test can be passed?"

"Adriaan faced it, long ago, before Adriaan, she was," Yoda answered.

_Before she was Adriaan? What does that mean?_

"Heatrian Katri'andar Obsidi J'Oli, go first, you must."

"Go where, WICKED? Do I need my WICKED lightsaber?" Heatrian asked, looking around.

"Take no weapons. Need them, you do not. Walk in the dark, you must."

Heatrian swallowed. "Is there anything there?"

"Only what you take with you. Let the Force flow through you. Fear the darkness, you must not."

Heatrian looked at the blackness before him for a long time.

Suddenly Klamin was faced with a vision of Heatrian going down into the dark, never to come out again…

_He can't leave me. _

"Heatrian, don't!" Klamin said, grabbing hold of his friend's tunic.

The Pyronite shrugged him off. "I do not fear the dark!" he said grimly.

He stepped forward and was swallowed by the shadows.

* * * * *

Adriaan walked slowly through the hall, sipping a mug of Chai-chong tea, savoring the exotic blend of spices. As she passed a training area, she peeked in to see what they were doing. A group of Apprentices sat in a semicircle, practicing calm breathing. They were all about five or six years old. Too young to join her Padawan Clan, she decided. She needed to find kids close to Kan and Aedan's ages; preferably former Padawans that were training at the Temple because their Masters had been killed.

_Remember Jordin. Remember you promised to try to help her._

Adriaan downed the last of her tea and stood in the middle of the floor, contemplating. There were thousands of training areas at the Jedi Temple, and searching for one particular student could be as hard as finding a monkey-lizard on Hoth.

Then she remembered seeing many orphaned Padawans in Katma's class. Perhaps Jordin was with them.

She stepped into the turbolift and pressed the button for level two hundred and fourteen.

* * * * *

When the Pyronite stepped forward, he saw a light ahead of him.

_Ah hah! _Heatrian thought. _It's not so dark in here after all!_

He began to walk toward the glimmer.

_"Do not walk toward the light; the Jedi are trying to trick you," someone whispered._

_ The voice sounded strangely familiar. Heatrian turned around. "Mitaiya?"_

_ "You are tired. Give up this empty dream and go back home."_

_ "I was a GOOD old slave at home."_

_ "Your home is not Zylxx. Your home is your birth-mountain ––– Obsidi. I am Obsidi. Come back to me. Your people are dying in the valleys."_

_ "Obsidi." He was suddenly confronted by a vision of the great mountain where he had been birthed. Lava spurted from the cone, and ash blotted out the sky as giant flaming rocks fell from the heavens…_

_ "What is GOODLY going on?"_

_ "The destruction of Zylxx has begun. The Pyronites will go to sleep now in the magma beds…"_

Heatrian, look away from the burning mountain. It is just a vision of what the future _might_ be, not what it is. It is not the time to look outward, toward what _might_ come. Take a step back to what was.

Heatrian heeded the voice inside him. He took a step back…

…And plummeted down into a deep pit.

_He screamed as he fell in the utter blackness. He had always been afraid of falling from a great height and crashing down at the bottom, and now it had become real._

_ "Pyronites do not fear the heights; they must live in high places to survive…"_

_ To his surprise, when he hit the bottom, he felt nothing. After a minute, he stood up shakily and began to walk._

_ "Heatrian? What are you doing in this terrible place? Get out!" Night Falcon appeared in front of him, a haunting light emanating from his body. Heatrian stepped back._

_ "Falcon? What are you doing here, WICKED?"_

_ "I told you I would be with you whenever you needed me," his Master answered. "And you really _do_ need me right now; you just don' t realize it. Stay away from that light. It will consume you."_

_ "But I _have_ to WICKEDLY go there. It's part of my GOOD old test."_

_ "That is why you must take something to protect you from it." Falcon held out his hand, which contained a writhing orb of electricity. Heatrian stepped back._

_ "Why don't you WICKEDLY come with WICKED me instead?"_

_ "I am helpless against it," Falcon answered, shuddering. "Take this power. It is called Force Lightning, and will destroy anything that is a threat to you."_

_ "Adriaan told me that WICKED Jedi don't use lightning –––"_

_ "Adriaan is naïve and knows nothing about true power. Take it!"_

_ Falcon lunged forward, and Heatrian turned and fled._

_ "Why didn't you take it, fool?" Obsidi asked. "You could have saved us with it –––"_

Do not listen to the burning mountain, Heatrian, _the voice inside told him._ Continue walking.

Heatrian faced the light again and strode toward it.

_Fire exploded all around him, but the heat of his body could not warm the coldness that had seized his heart. Pyronites all around him screamed and ran, leaving chunks of rock and magma scattered across the plain._

_ "Heatrian, look away," a Pyronite said to one of her tribe members._

_ "_Mitaiya!" _It was his tribal chief! His best friend! Heatrian ran toward her and wrapped his arms around her. _"Mitaiya! You're alive! WICKED!"

_"Mitaiya," the baby said in a voice identical to his, "what's going on? Why is everyone running?_

_Mitaiya ––– the leading Pyronite of his tribe ––– turned to the baby Pyronite. "An evil civilization that came to our world wants to kill us," she said heavily._

"Mitaiya, you must WICKEDLY run!" _Heatrian told her. Why didn't she hear him, or respond to his embrace?_

_ "But why? What have we done?" baby Heatrian asked._

_ "We have done nothing to them," Mitaiya said. "So also will we die, not harming anyone."_

"Mitaiya, fight back!" _Heatrian screamed._

_Then the Zylxxians came, armed with negaqua-blasters; weapons with the capability of killing Pyronites by injecting a substance into their being that doused the life ember within them, draining the energy in their core. He remembered these weapons well, and hated them._

_ The Zylxxians raised their blasters and pointed them at his friend…_

"No! No!" _Heatrian yelled, hitting Mitaiya's attackers as hard as he could. But again, they hardly seemed to notice him._

"Mitaiya!" _the other boy called Heatrian stretched his arms toward his tribe leader beseechingly as he was dragged away._

_Falcon reappeared in front of Heatrian. "What are you doing? Why aren't you fighting back? They've just killed your tribe guardian!"_

"I can't stop them; this all happened years ago," Heatrian said helplessly. "This is only a vision of the past. I cannot reverse what has already been done."

_"That's where you're wrong. You _can. _All you have to do is accept this." Again, Falcon held out the hand containing the blue orb of lightning._

Heatrian, do not heed the visions. Continue walking.

_He closed his eyes. And reached for the flame._

_ The heat burned into his palm, for it was hotter than his lava body. He clenched his fist to contain the fire, but it continued to spread throughout him. The heat became so unbearably hot that his body began to lose warmth._

_ Heatrian was dying._

_ "Heatrian! Use your power to save us!"_

Let go of your anger, Heatrian. Do not heed the voices.

_"If you use the power given to you, you can become Ruler of the Universe," Falcon whispered._

What they promise you may seem good while you have it, but when it is gone, it leaves you with a feeling of emptiness and regret.

_ Ruler of the Universe._

_ Heatrian opened his eyes and ran forward to attack._

_ The cold in his body became so intense that he could no longer feel the ember of his heart glowing and supplying him with energy to move. He felt as if he had just been blasted by a negaqua, but how was that possible, when his enemies had fled? He froze and toppled over into the blackness, which opened up into a volcano._

_ "WICKED," he thought. "Now I can WICKEDLY heat up again and rout the GOODS out, and make them all croak."_

_ "It is too late for that," Obsidi said._

_ He landed on a frozen wasteland, with no sun, or light, or warmth. A heavy ice storm hailed down on his body, beating him into the cold earth…_

"Where am I?" he asked, his voice fading as the ice froze him into a lifeless chunk of rock, that could no longer talk, or think…

_"This is Hoth. This death was appointed to you from birth. There is no way to reverse your destiny. You are going to die on this world, alone."_

_ Alone._

* * * * *

It seemed that only seconds had passed before Yoda called Klamin again.

"Time to go, it is."

"Heatrian's done already?"

"Yes."

There was a pause. "Did he fail?" Klamin asked quietly.

"Hard, the trial was."

Apparently, that was all Yoda was going to give him. Klamin sighed and stepped forward.

_The first thing he heard was the murmuring of many voices around him. At first, he thought it was the Council watching him, but as he listened to the words, he found that it was not so._

Anger aggression avarice fear hatred hunger vice malice pride arrogance lust power greed malevolence deceit suffering pain indifference dishonor death…

_"Klamin."_

_ He turned toward the voice. _"Falcon?"

_His Master appeared to him ––– not in his present, cyborg form, but as he was three years ago ––– a young human male with arresting looks."There is something you must know. Ra'hal Espera is my Apprentice. She was blinded by her pride, and I was powerless to stop her. She killed your parents. And Baske-tal. And your brother and sister…"_

_ He ran into the house, a cold dread settling his stomach. It was too quiet here. Usually, his home was filled with the laughter of his siblings and his father as they came home from various activities, and his mother, always smelling of spices, always there to embrace him when he walked in the door…_

_ He took a step forward, then stopped. A red footprint stained the floor in front of him._

_ That's when he knew that someone had been there._

Vengeance glory darkness fury…

_"You could've taken all of it, but you _didn't!" _Falcon yelled. "You let the death of the people you loved go unaccounted for!"_

_ Tears filled his eyes as he stumbled forward, toward his parent's room. "But Ra'hal is dead. Adriaan said she died…"_

_ A dark figure rose from the shadows, swathed in a cloak that fanned out behind like a deep shadow. "Adriaan lied. She _is _alive!"_

_ The figure lunged forward and grabbed him. Klamin screamed and withdrew his lightsaber, but she waved a hand and it clattered to the floor. As she looked into his face, he could discern two yellow-red eyes shining intensely through the black cape._

_ "_**I**_ am Ra'hal. _**I**_ killed your family, and your only friend…"_

_ Baske-tal. They had been great friends as children. She had been the one who had first shown him how to shapeshift into a monkey-lizard…_

"Why did you do it?"_ It was hard for him to talk, to breathe…_

_ She held a hand in front of his face; her right hand, with the black tattoo engraved into her white skin. Her arm exploded into fiery blue as she held a glowing ball of lightning in the palm of her hand. The glow reflected the even brighter flame of her eyes, sending a blinding glare into his heart…_

_ "Because it is my destiny to make other people unhappy and unloved," she said. "And it is your destiny to die at my hand."_

_ She threw back her hood as lightning erupted from her fingertips and licked across his face. He screamed as faces of those he loved most appeared before him._

_ His mother, with hair as black as the night._

_ His father, who was strong, tall, and proud._

_ His baby sister, laughing and cooing with delight as Klamin chased his younger brother in the backyard. _

_ A girl with dark blond hair looked at him with grave brown eyes, empty of energy, of life, of the person that was his best friend…_

_ "You said we were friends," Baske-tal said. "Is _this_ how you treat a friend?"_

_ Her grayish skin lightened, and her hair grew longer and became a fiery gold as she took on the form of Kay Lee. She was wearing a white, tattered garment that floated out around her, and her face was stern._

_ "Klamin, you cannot be playing these games with your mind!" she said. "Straighten yourself out! You must let go of the feelings inside you!"_

_ "No," Ra'hal said. "Why should he take all the trouble to change himself when he is already perfect?"_

_ Ra'hal touched Kay Lee with her lightning-covered hand, and the figure dissipated._

_ "Rest in peace, Klamin J'Oli of the Jedi Republic," she said. "You are tired. Tired of the Universe."_

"No, I will not rest. Not until I kill you," _he said_.

_She laughed. "But why would you want to kill me, when you are the one who loves me?"_

_ That was the just about the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard. _"How could I possibly love _you_? You destroyed everything I lived for!"

_"You don't live for anything…not anymore," she said, touching him lightly on the cheek. "Go to sleep. Even the greatest must have rest. Give it _all_ up. Close your eyes, just for a minute."_

_ She placed her hand on his heart, and immediately, the lightning entered his being. He felt his body catch on fire as it spread into every particle of him. He cried out in pain._

"Adriaan!"

* * * * *

She peeked through the door, watching as the Apprentices completed a complicated obstacle course set up in the training area. As the students jumped over walls, swung over bars, rolled through tunnels, and did crazy acrobatic stunts, they were supposed to focus on deflecting the fire from training droids set around the perimeter. It was a tough exercise, for you had to focus on several things at once, while making your body work to its limit. You had to be physically and mentally fit to last long enough. Only a few Apprentices had not endured the intense workout. Those were the ones sitting down as the other fifteen or so students blazed through the exercise.

Needless to say, Adriaan was impressed.

She had spotted Jordin soon enough. It was hard to miss that red hair and contagious laugh as the girl seemed to float like a light breeze from one part of the room to the other. But Adriaan began to lose her in the blur of students. Instead, she found herself focusing on a tall Zabrak girl following close behind Kan's friend.

Perhaps it was the lithe, easy grace that first caught her attention. Or maybe it was the short, straight hair that was as black as the night, that surrounded her round face. Maybe it was even the intricate, violet-colored, ritual tattoos that decorated her glowing skin. But perhaps the reason why she noticed the girl was the expression captured in her black eyes ––– a feeling of desperation and sadness. For hadn't Adriaan felt like that girl, long ago? Wasn't she exactly like that strange, melancholy student _now_?

She turned away and looked down at her sun-stone, which she clenched tightly in her fist. It flickered and glowed with an eery light of its own as she turned it over and over in her hand. Suddenly, she stopped and looked closer into the depths of the stone. A reflection of her face gazed up at her. The roundness of the stone distorted her face, making her large eyes look slanted and evil, and her nose a bulbous object in the center of her head. She sighed and closed her hand over her possession, tugging at the lock of hair that perpetually drooped in front of one eye, obscuring half her face.

_I'm ugly, just like _he _said, _she thought sadly. _But I shouldn' t feel bad; Jedi aren't supposed to be concerned about their looks. So I don't care._

But she was only lying to herself. She knew that, deep down in her heart, she did care.

She sighed and looked back into the room to see how the Apprentices were doing. Only three of them were left, and she was pleased to note that the remaining students were Jordin, the Zabrak, and a young boy about Aedan's age. She turned her attention to this human boy, who seemed to be the youngest in the class, and yet was able to keep up with the rest of them. Such a student would fit in well with her clan, she decided. Besides, this boy might be a good influence on Aedan's little club.

_Or Aedan might be a wicked influence on the boy, but let's not even consider that happening._

"Time's up. At ease, children," Katma announced, looking at her chrono. "The last three students may approach."

Jordin and the other two came forward eagerly, still panting and perspiring heavily from the intense workout.

Malub looked them up and down with a critical eye. "Not bad, overall. Marya, stop slouching and pay attention when I am speaking to you."

"This is as straight as I can stand right now," the Zabrak girl said edgily. "And I _am _paying attention."

"You are perfectly capable of standing straighter, unless, of course, you have a birth defect that prevents you from doing so."

The other students giggled, but Katma silenced them with a glare. She waited ungraciously for Marya's reply. "Well, young Yon, do you have anything to say?"

The girl shrugged. "No."

"You mean that you are not going to defend yourself after I suggested that you have a birth defect?"

"Why should I defend myself when I know that anything I will say will just come across as an excuse?" Marya Yon asked.

Malub stared at her for several minutes. "I am not going to waste any more time arguing with a stubborn student," she said finally. "Okay, as you all know, I'm not big on detailed critiques; I hate making speeches. So, Nic Modd, control your emotion when you battle. Stop feeling like you need to keep up with everyone else. Go at your own pace. Marya Yon, you need to work on the execution of your attacks; your form is perfect, but you need to put more power into your moves. Fancy twirls and flips won't kill an enemy."

"What about me? Did I do well? Please say I did well!" Jordin said. "I can't stand it when I do badly I'm an Apprentice so I'm expected to have perfected all these exercises already so I have a reputation to hold up so please say I did well –––"

"You did fine; if you had done badly, you wouldn't have lasted out there as long as you did," Katma said. "But there are areas in which you need improvement. The best advice I can give you is to pay attention to what you're doing and buy some duratape."

"Duratape? Why would I want to get some of that?" Jordin asked.

"Simple answer: to tape your mouth shut. Class dismissed."

Adriaan really had to summon all her self-control to keep herself from bowling over right in the middle of the hall and screaming with laughter. Katma's blunt comments never failed to send Adriaan into hysterics.

The students all stood up and began to leave in an orderly fashion. Jordin, Nic, and Marya remained standing in the middle of the floor, apparently still absorbing Katma's suggestions.

Jordin stamped the floor indignantly. "Tape my mouth shut? Master Malub, I find your comment very offensive!" Jordin said. "Why would I ever need duratape for my mouth and why would I ever need to pay attention I always pay attention and I always keep my mouth shut I can prove it because I'm never drooling only people who keep their mouths open drool and I never drool –––"

"Um, Jordin, you just drooled all over your training tunic," Nic said, pointing at the drops of saliva dripping down the front of her clothing.

"This can't get any more embarrassing," Marya sighed.

Jordin continued blabbing, as if she didn't hear what her friends were saying. "My former Master Yil was a lot like you Master Malub except she never accused me of drooling she only told me to shut up whenever I talked but I never listened even though I paid attention to what she said I just decided not to follow to her advice see I _do _pay attention and I don't need duratape for my mouth to keep it from drooling and did you know that when I get a new Master I am going to get Marya to shave me bald because I've always wondered whether it would be more efficient and comfortable for me to be bald except I'm afraid to do it because what if people are alarmed when they see me I don't want to attract public attention that way it would be so embarrassing but I've seen women that are bald so I guess that would be okay if I tried it –––"

Malub clapped her hands over her ears and groaned. "Argh! Why does the galaxy hate me?!" she yelled. "Ever since I've become a Master, all I've had to train are passive-aggressive girls that are reincarnations of the most smart-alecky, hardheaded Apprentice of them all –––"

"You mean me, Katma?" Adriaan asked, popping into the room.

Malub's eyes narrowed. "How did you know I was talking about you? Was it the word 'smart-aleck' or 'hardheaded'?"

"Both," Adriaan answered smoothly, putting her hands together and bowing. "Besides, I remember how much trouble I caused to you during my Colo clawfish clan days. There's never been anyone worse than me."

"Except for that Aedan Kenobi carcass," Katma sniffed. "But at least I was spared the torment of training him. I guess someone cared about keeping me partially alive and sane. So what are _you_ doing here? Shouldn't you be halfway to the Syleeto system by now with your precious legion?"

"You probably have not heard the news," Adriaan said, leaning against a punching bag. "The Council has made me the head trainer of the first Apprentice Clan ––– the Varactyl Clan."

"Head trainer? You've got to be kidding me." Katma rolled her eyes. "They might as well make Jabba the Hutt a Jedi. Who are your 'Apprentices'?"

"My original Apprentice is the former Padawan of Master Xelan," Adriaan answered, ignoring Katma's sneering tone. "The others I've just picked up –––"

"Let me guess: the Wicked Club."

"You're smarter than I thought."

"I pity you."

"Yeah, really." Adriaan grinned. "They're not so bad, once you get used to them. But it just so happens, that the Council wants me to take on a few more Apprentices to my Clan. Former Padawans, or students between the ages of nine and thirteen. So I was wondering –––"

Katma pushed the three Apprentices toward Adriaan. "Go ahead, take them, anything to get these idiots away from me," she said. "I should really ask Yoda if I can retire from training students and just become a Council member or something. I'm just not cut out for this work anymore. You really took the life out of me, Ree. You're getting what you deserve if you Apprentice these three along with the Wicked Club."

"Really? These guys don't seem so bad to me," Adriaan said, winking at the three Padawans.

Katma waved a hand in dismissal. "Don't assume anything. Even a baby Cheeta leopard, though cute, can prove to be a threat. May the Force be with you, nursery Jedi."

Adriaan felt the blood rush to her cheeks as she remembered the day she had fallen asleep at the Council Meeting. "See ya, Kitty-Katma."

When her old trainer was finally gone, she turned back to the students, who were surveying her with great interest.

"You were really Katma's student?" Nic asked. "Dang, she must be centuries of years old."

"Not exactly." Adriaan smiled. "I was an Apprentice myself not too long ago."

"You must be the one she always compares misbehaving students to," Marya remarked.

"Glad to see that I'm a role model. So, you were listening to what me and Katma were saying?"

"Yes," Marya and Nic said.

Jordin shook her head. "I forgot to pay attention to paying attention to what you were saying."

Adriaan crouched down so that she was eye level to them. "Since we're probably going to be seeing each other pretty often from now on, I may as well introduce myself to you. Jedi Knight Adriaan ell Talaan, Commander of the Five-oh-third legion. I already know your names, but I don't know your backgrounds, except for Jordin's."

"Kan must make a lot of rude comments about me," Jordin sighed.

"Actually, he has many great things to say about you," Adriaan said. "And I know he misses you. So ––– Nic and Marya ––– what can you tell me about yourselves?"

"I'm twelve years old, and I was the Apprentice of Tira-Auris…before she got killed on Geonosis, that is," Marya said. "I'm a nonconformist that is skilled with a tonfa saber and making smart-alecky remarks."

"A maverick, I see," Adriaan said. "You remind me a lot of myself, which is why I first noticed you. Now, what about you, Nic?"

"I'm sort-of-but-not-really an orphaned Padawan," Nic answered. "I was Chosen a few days before the battle of Geonosis. My Master-to-be never came back. I'm nine years old, and I'm really good at laserball and pedi-sphere."

"You would probably get along with Aedan, then," Jordin shaking her head at the memories she had of the boy. "He loves laserball, among other things that I dare not mention."

"Who's Aedan?"

"You will meet him soon enough," Adriaan said. "He is a member of my Padawan Clan. I came to the Temple for three important reasons ––– to present two Force-sensitives to the Council, to pick up my customized clone legion that just arrived from Kamino, and to put additional Apprentices to my team. I'm supposed to pick out five students before tonight."

"So you want to Apprentice us?" Marya asked.

"Well, yes," Adriaan answered. "This is a very unorthodox approach, but I'm sure we'll all get to know each other better once we get onto the battlefield. Besides, I can't do this the traditional Jedi way because I don't have time. I have to get back to my command post by the day after tomorrow. If you'd like, you can stay here and consider this option and then get a Jedi escort to take you to my sector if you decide you want to join –––"

"Count us in," Marya said quickly. "I'm sick and tired of this boring old Temple. It's time we saw some action."

"And it's time I saw my best friend again," Jordin added. "I _really _hope that you are nicer than my old Master she was kind of strict and mean –––"

"But you looked so sad a few days ago when I saw you at her funeral," Adriaan reminded her.

"Well, of course I was sad!" Jordin exclaimed. "After all, she was the closest thing I had to a mother!"

"Then why aren't you still grieving?" Adriaan asked, confused.

"Yikes, Master ell Talaan," Jordin giggled. "I'm beginning to wonder who's going to be doing the mastering around here; you or me. A Jedi must not regret, or look back. They feel sorrow for the loss of lives, but they always move on. I have grieved for my Master; now I have moved on. Besides, it is so hard for me to be depressed all the time. It just makes me feel so ––– so ––– _depressed._"

"I…see." Adriaan placed a hand to her forehead. It was throbbing painfully, and it wasn't a headache from Jordin's chattering. She felt a sudden chill come over her body.

_"Adriaan! Adriaan! Help!"_

_ Kan. Kay Lee. _

_ Klamin._

The three Padawans seemed to go out of focus as the floor tipped and rolled underneath her. What was going on? She grabbed onto the wall for support, but felt it slip away from her. She fell to her knees.

"Master!" Instantly, Jordin was on the ground beside her. "Did I kill her from all my talking oh no Master Yil always warned me about my mouth she said it was a lethal weapon and I don't really know what lethal means but I think that's why my Master died because she just couldn't take my talking any longer oh Master Adriaan speak to me –––"

_The volcanoes were exploding. Kay Lee was trapped, unable to move as debris fell on top of her…_

_ Zylxx was destroying itself._

The black tattoo on her right hand seemed to explode into blue fire. She looked away, blinded at the bright light. As she gazed at Jordin, the girl's features seemed to melt and reshape into Kan's face. He looked at her with sad, empty eyes.

_"You said that you would help me."_

_ I _am_ helping you._

_ "You aren't paying attention to me anymore!" he cried. "You don't care_! _You didn't even try to make it right between us before we left! And now when are you going to do it? You won't have time now, with sixteen Apprentices at your heels!"_

_ I have to do it, Kan. It is my duty. I'm sorry._

_ "If you were really sorry, you would do something about it."_

A shadow fell across her hand, and the strange glow on her arm disappeared as abruptly as it had come. Her eyes came back into focus as she looked up at Plo Koon.

"They have taken the test. Come to the Council chambers immediately."

* * * * *

He was running, bolting out of the house as fast as he could, trying to get away from the death that had entered his home. His footsteps pounded in time to the names of those he had loved…

Ztened, his father.

Kiri, his mother.

Hal, his brother.

Jena, his baby sister.

Matka, his aunt. Api, his uncle. Mat-ri and Pat-ri ––– his grandparents.

Baske-tal. His friend.

Suddenly, he ran into something large and strong. It was a human man, clothed in black. The man looked down at him with eyes as blue and tranquil as the sea. Still petrified by what had just happened, Klamin felt all he could do was run. So he turned around and fled in the opposite direction.

"Wait, boy, stop!" the man grasped him firmly but gently by the arms. He turned Klamin slowly around. "Are you in some kind of trouble?" he asked kindly.

Klamin liked the look of the man; his sixth sense told him he could trust the stranger. So he opened his mouth and spilled out the words. "My family was murdered."

The human seemed hardly surprised, which Klamin found amazing. He threw back his hood, revealing hair as black as Klamin's, except it was much longer. He extended his hand warmly, and, without a word, began to lead Klamin down the street.

"So you're an orphan. Poor kid. Don't worry, I'll take care of you, if there's no family around to do that. What's your name?"

He was so astounded at how quickly his life had been turned upside down, that he could only gape at the man. The human had to ask several times before Klamin's wits caught up with him so that he could answer.

"My ––– my name is Klamin."

"Well, Klamin, let us go to my home and see what you can do."

Thinking of hard labor, Klamin's steps faltered. "I don't want to become your slave –––"

The man laughed. "Oh, you will not have to worry about becoming a slave, little Klamin. You see, I am a Jedi, a protector of peace and justice, and I have a feeling that you are a Force-sensitive. Is this true?"

Klamin did not know exactly what the man was talking about, so he shook his head. "I'm not sure I understand you."

The man turned and resumed walking, Klamin following a few strides behind him. "Don't worry. You'll soon learn; I feel the Force runs strongly in your blood, but we will see. Come along, now. My house is not far from here."

That was when he had first met Falcon.

_"You remember that day well," Falcon said to Klamin._

_ He rubbed his eyes and felt a spasm of pain come over him. "What happened?"_

_ "You had a blackout in your vision. Your memory of the past blended in with what _could _have happened. You were in a projection of a _past_ future."_

_ "So in this vision, Ra'hal was still there and tried to kill me?"_

_ "You mean she _did _kill you. Do you see now how she is a threat?"_

_ "Adriaan said that Ra'hal died."_

_ "What else did Adriaan say?"_

_ "That –––" he rubbed his head, trying to remember. "––– oh, yes, she also said that Ra'hal was her best friend."_

_ "Let me show you this from a different Heatrian did something ––– shall we say ––– contrary to the Jedi teaching, would you tell the Council?"_

_ "Well, I suppose not. But if I told the Council, they might help Heatrian through his difficulty –––"_

_ Falcon shook his head. "No. The Council means well, but their power has diminished. Look at Ra'hal, for example. She was a result of their weakness. They were unable to make her see the right way, and she was twisted into a monster. Anyway, my point is that friends don't betray their friends."_

_ Klamin felt his anger build. "So Adriaan…_lied_?"_

_ Falcon frowned. "I'm afraid so. But we shouldn't blame her. Loyalty is to be admired. Funny, I don't remember my old Apprentice having a Jedi friend named Adriaan. Perhaps there is some mistake…"_

_ "No, Adriaan seemed fairly positive of knowing someone named Ra'hal. She even has the same tattoo as Ra'hal. She recognizes the design on the knife you gave me, too. There can be no mistake."_

_ "Something is not right here, my Apprentice. I remember everything…and I do not recall anyone by the name of Adriaan ell Talaan. Tell me, do you trust me, Klamin?"_

_ "Of course."_

_ "Then listen to me well. Watch this Adriaan for me. There is more to her than meets the eye…"_

_ Falcon began to fade out of Klamin's vision. He staggered foward and held out a hand toward his Master. "Master? Where are you going? Master! Come back!"_

_ "Remember your teaching, Klamin."_

_ The room darkened. Klamin was standing on a mountain, surrounded by a sky black with clouds. As he looked around at this strange world, he caught sight of a figure standing alone on a bare hill, facing the blank horizon. Lightning raked across the sky, reflecting the golden hair of the strange, white-clothed person._

_ Then he knew who it was. Adriaan._

_ As he watched, she went into an attack stance and began to perform the Lightning Kata. She raised her white arms high above her head as she leaped into the air and landed lightly back on the earth. Her feet barely touched the ground and she advanced into the form with a graceful ease._

_ "Adriaan! Get inside! It's a lightning storm!" Klamin shouted, but a gust of wind picked up, drowning out his voice. She began to move faster and faster, dancing more wildly and passionately than he had ever seen anyone do. She extended her arms out in front of her, two fingers pointed before her, just as lightning struck the hill she was on._

_ "Adriaan!" Rain and hail fell at the same time, but he felt it not. He was falling off the height he was on…down, down to where Adriaan was. To his surprise, she was still standing, and held the fire from heaven at the tips of her fingers. She moved her arms in a complicated pattern around her until the electricity encased her body. She was so filled with the energy of the storm, that he could no longer see her in the blinding light. She hardly seemed herself anymore as she continued to dance with the lightning. He had never seen anything so terrifying and beautiful in his life, and his eyes filled with tears at the sight. There was so much power in the air that he seemed to float in space._

_ Suddenly she stopped in the form, looking up toward the heavens. She jerked both her hands forward, and the lightning receded from her in a thousand tongues of blue fire from the hilltop. Klamin fell the rest of the way down and rolled onto his stomach, clamping his hands over his ears as a terrific clash of thunder exploded in the air. _

_ When the storm passed, he finally had enough strength to stand. The lightning had seemed to drain his strength away, just as it had fed and multiplied Adriaan's power. He looked around for her in bleak landscape. _

_ "Adriaan?"_

_ He nearly fell over the top of her. She was lying very still in the black earth, her face hauntingly pale and serene. Her hair spilled out around her face, and her blue eyes were open and gazing at the sky with an odd expression that made him feel very afraid. He waved his hand in front of her face to rouse her. She sighed and looked at him._

_ "Adriaan, come on! Get up." He began to pick her up, but she seemed incredibly heavy, and impossible to lift. He stepped back as she flung a hand at him in dismissal. _

_ "I am not Adriaan. I am Lightning in the Storm," she said in a strange, trancelike voice._

_ "They mean the same thing," he said impatiently. "Come _on!"

_"She is not going to get up."_

_ Klamin turned to face Kay Lee, who looked at him gravely. "What do you mean?" he asked her._

_ "She contained too much rage and pain within her body, and it destroyed her," she said sadly."She and I are not part of this galaxy anymore. You must continue alone."_

_ "What? Kay Lee, come back!" Klamin leaped to his feet and ran toward the apparition as it was blown away by the wind. He tripped and began to roll down the hill. "No! Kay Lee!"_

_ He opened his eyes when he reached the bottom. He was in a deep chasm, looking at a small girl who was crouching on the ground, her hands covering her face. Klamin began to crawl towards her, but was stopped by a pair of feet that stood in front of him. He looked up and faced the person._

_ "Adriaan."_

_ Her face was cold as she looked down at him, as she would at a beetle that had dared to crawl over her foot. "You said you would protect me," she said reproachfully. "But you killed me instead!"_

_ "No!" Klamin struggled to his feet, but found he was firmly tied down by chains. _

_ "These chains symbolize anger and revenge," she said. "You carried these feelings in your heart, and now they will bind you forever."_

_ He struggled to make his voice work, but found it could not. With all his strength, he pushed himself up to his knees and screamed. _

"Heatrian! Help! Where are you?!"

"I'm right here, WICKED," Heatrian said, sounding very tired.

Klamin looked around. The shades had been pulled up, and the evening light streamed in from all directions. The Council stood in a circle around him and the Pyronite.

"Your trial has concluded," Mace Windu announced, pressing a button beside his armrest as he took a seat.

There was the sound of footsteps behind them. Klamin turned around just as a girl in a pale tunic ran up.

"Klamin!" Adriaan called.


	18. Pyronite Rebellion

✶Time period: + Approx. 1 week after Adriaan left for Coruscant✶

chapter 18

It was the second day of Kan's hike up the mountain, and he was already sick of protein pellets and water cubes for dinner. He almost wished that he had let Kay Lee go instead of him, but then he remembered that her duty was to command the Republic troops. So he kept on marching.

Almost forty-eight hours ago, a clone battleship had taken him to the base of Mount Obsidi. It was obviously a volcano, because there was quite an accumulation of hardened volcanic material covering it. Not to mention there was a constant cloud of ash concealing the summit. The craft had been unable to land because the clone crew couldn't risk exposure to the hostile environment, so Kan had jumped off the ship when it was about one hundred meters from the planet surface. It wasn't a particularly long fall for a Jedi, so Kan managed to land safely on the craggy landscape. Since then, he had been walking up the mountainside.

The cone wasn't very steep, but it had deep cracks and sulfuric pits you could fall into if you didn't watch your step. In spite of the goggles he wore for protection, Kan's eyes were smarting and bleary from the ash and smoke. He felt that he was being watched, though he hadn't seen a single living thing during the entire trek.

He staggered as the ground rumbled beneath him. The volcano seemed to be awake, but it had never had any major explosions in all the history of Zylxx, otherwise the natives would have known about it long before. Obviously, it had frequent mini-eruptions that were small enough to be hidden by the surrounding mountains, or else there wouldn't have been so much hardened lava covering its surface, and it would have the few plants that could thrive on the planet growing up the slope.

He licked his dry lips and gazed up at the mountain.

"I really wish I could find those Pyronites," he murmured. "I wonder if they're even here, after all."

Suddenly, the Force surged, warning him that he was no longer alone. He activated his lightsaber and whirled around, searching the landscape.

He frowned. There had been nothing, after all. But the Force had seemed so sure that someone was there. Maybe he had misread his senses, but as of yet that had never happened to him. Was some dark presence inside the volcano clouding his ability to use the Force?

Just then, a pillar of lava shot up in front of his face. Kan stumbled back, covering his head with his arms. The magma seemed to float in the air for several microseconds before materializing into a humanoid shape.

"_Makaiya xxxr hu," _the Pyronite said, repeating in Basic, "put your weapon down. You're surrounded."

It was true. Kan stared around at the lava beings that had enclosed him. He deactivated his lightsaber, stuck it in his utility belt, and put his hands up.

"I am Captain Enik of Republic forces," Kan said. "And I have come to meet the leaders of the Pyronites of the Obsidi Remnant."

"We are the leaders of the POOR," the Pyronite said. "What do you want with us, organic life form?"

"I need your help," Kan answered.

* * * * *

"_Comet 3, _keep in formation," Kay Lee called out. She watched with satisfaction as the errant ARC-170 went back to its place. Man, those clones sure knew how to follow orders. "_Comet 4, _I see some smoke on your aft cannon; is something wrong?"

"Just a minor overheating," the clone answered. "Nothing I can't handle, ma'am."

Kay Lee's gaze riveted on the navscreen. Cÿÿ blocked the view in front of her. They were so close to the fortress that she could see the tiny shapes of vulture fighters taking off from the platform…

"Stay tight, boys!" she shouted as the ion cannons of the fortress began to fire at them. Two Republic craft were hit by the blasts and spun out of control, exploding in flowery blooms of fire. Kay Lee sent her ship into a dive as she issued commands out to the different units.

"_Comet 14, _watch your starboard wing!_ Comet 13, _stay out of range of the _Quasar's _firepower! Watch those ion blasts, boys! Vulture droids approaching at Point Five. Take evasive action!"

"Commander Lee! Missiles are targeting you!" Urak yelled.

Kay Lee sent the ship into a spin, but her piloting skills were useless against so many missiles. As one exploded on her tiny craft, she shouted at her tailgunner. "CT-8776, try to shoot down as many of those things as possible!"

"Ma'am, we've lost our tailgunner!" her copilot ––– a clone simply known as CT-6571 ––– shouted back.

_Oh, shoot. _"Just hang on!" Kay Lee yelled as several more missiles rocked her ship.

"Commander Lee, you should retreat! Your craft can't take much more damage!" Urak shouted. "Get back to the _Quasar!_"

_"No, Kay Lee!" _Her old Master's voice popped into her mind. _"Do your duty!"_

_ Do my duty. _Her duty was not to flee. She had promised Adriaan she would retake the Kiyp Belt, and she _would _do it. Even if it meant dying trying. That was what her duty was; to save the Syleeto system. To sacrifice her life for a people she hardly knew.

But such was the way of the Jedi.

Kay Lee gritted her teeth and braced herself as the console warned of incoming missiles.

A horrible blast blew off her port wing, and she watched helplessly as her console went up and flames and her craft began to spin out of control.

_So this is what it is like to die…_

* * * * *

"You need our help? That has been unheard of since the beginning of the Zylxxian invasion," the Pyronite said. "No non-Pyronite has befriended Pyronites for more than eight hundred years. Why should we help your kind? The Republic is no ally of the Pyronitesd. They do not even enforce the civil rights law that should keep us free."

"I am very sorry about that," Kan said. "And I must correct you; the Jedi are not exactly part of the Republic. It is our duty to defend peace and justice, and I assure you, when we return from our respective mission at this system, the Jedi will do all that is in our power to set you free."

The Pyronites murmured among themselves. The leader stepped forward. "You may put your hands down." After Kan had put his arms down, the Pyronite continued, "You say that the Jedi are not part of the Republic. We ourselves do not know much of the Jedi, so we cannot rightly judge you. However, if you are not part of the Republic, why are the warriors of your Order generals of the Republic army?"

"Because the Republic army is defending our cause. The CIS are led by the sith, who are the Jedi's greatest enemies," Kan answered. "Your system is in trouble, and we have been trying to clear out the invaders for the past six weeks."

"You have only cleared out those who are not a threat to our kind," a Pyronite spoke up. "And apparently, you haven't been doing such a good job of getting rid of them."

"That's why we need your help," Kan pleaded. "We can't find a way to get them off this planet."

"If anything, these droids were beneficial to us, since they were the ones who released Actin 3 into the Zylxxian cities."

"The CIS are not your allies," Kan said indignantly. "They are only here to take over your planet. Is that what you want?"

"We do not want anyone in control of our homeworld," the Pyronite agreed. "Nevertheless, the droids did not enslave our kind, they enslaved our own captors."

"But if you let them stay, your whole civilization will be wiped out by starvation –––"

"Oh, we will not starve. We feed on the mountains," the Pyronite answered.

Kan slapped a hand to his forehead. He had forgotten. "Is there any way I can prove to you that I am on your side, and the Separatists aren't?" he asked miserably.

"Oh, yes," the being answered. "The Pyronites have stuck together for ages. We are one group, and we do everything together. If you could tell me that a Pyronite is out there fighting for your cause, then we will hear what you have to say. But if not…well, we cannot let you leave this mountain, since you have discovered the location of our hideout. So…well, you get the picture." The Pyronite's head shot up into flame.

Kan shuddered at the thought. "Well, I _can _prove to you that a Pyronite is on my side," he said. "He is not only my ally, but my friend, because he was the one who took care of me during the Actin 3 breakout. His name is Heatrian J'Oli."

"J'Oli is a foreign name," the Pyronite protested. "That is not a Pyronite you are speaking of."

"Wait! Hang on a minute! J'Oli is the name he adopted when he was forced to work at the Zylxxian Palace," Kan said. "He told me his full Pyronite name: Heatrian Katri-andar Obsidi. In fact, I never would have found this mountain if I hadn't remembered the last part of his name ––– Obsidi."

The Pyronites glanced at each other, then cooled down till they were only semi-hardened lava. The leader Pyronite nodded approvingly at Kan. "We all know young Heatrian Obsidi. He was still a little baby last time I saw him. Obsidi is the name of his mother-volcano. It is also the name of my volcano. That is why my name is Jet Ash-tri Obsidi. If you are truly his friend, then you are welcome here."

"I don't want to be welcome here," Kan said. "I want you to get off this mountain. Your planet is in trouble. I was sent here by my Jedi Commander to investigate this faction and bring you to fight for our cause."

"Your cause is to save the Zylxxians," Jet said. "You are fighting a losing battle. Their civilization is so corrupted by their distorted views that they only deserve to lapse into anarchy and be torn apart by their own designs."

"But their Queen does not approve of the slave trade," Kan protested. "If she is overthrown, all your supporters will be lost."

"Hyrax is morally upright, but she is too weak to do anything beneficial," Jet remarked. "She does not know the history of this system ––– she does not even belong here ––– so what can she possibly do to bring peace that has not existed for almost one thousand years?"

"I am not familiar with Syleetoian history."

"You cannot be blamed. Its history is a sad one. But it is time you knew, for we are coming to an end," Jet said mysteriously. "The darkest secret of Syleeto is about to be revealed to you, but first, do you know what the word 'Zylxxian' means?"

"'One from Zylxx'?" Kan hazarded.

"But what does 'Zylxx' mean?" Jet shook his head sadly. "The Zylxxian language is derived from Pyronitia ––– what Pyronites speak ––– and Zwyilexia, which is the language of their binary twin. The etymology of 'Zylxx' is derived from _Zyzy –––_ twin ––– and _lxx, _which meansimmigrant. So, a Zylxxian is actually someone who is 'an immigrant from the twin' that is, Zyzywlvlv, which means 'twin of Wlvlv'"

"So the Zylxxians are actually from the binary twin? They're related to the people they hate?" Kan was horrified. "But what is 'Wlvlv'?"

"That was the original name of our planet, before it was under the domination of the Zylxxians," Jet said grimly.

"But why did they immigrate from their twin in the first place?"

"Eight hundred years ago, the Zyzywlvlvlians were ruled by a monarchy. Instead of being elected ruler, the sovereign inherited the throne by birthright. There just so happened that a Queen gave birth to twins. Prince Zi-si was born minutes before his brother, Zy'yx, so he claimed the right to the throne. Zy'yx was ambitious, however, and wanted the kingdom for himself, but the people were so loyal to his brother that he feared open revolt. So he took his band of followers to the binary planet, Wlvlv ––– _our _homeworld ––– to start his conquest.

"He knew that another people inhabited this world ––– the Pyronites –––– but he also knew that we were spread out across the surface, living in tiny tribes situated in the mountains. We made the mistake of refusing to unite and take down this merciless foe, so we came under the domination of King Zy'yx, who named the capital of the planet 'King Zy'yx vanquishes Zi-si' ––– Zy'yx-zi-si-wi. However, the defeat of our nation taught us to stick together, no matter what, and King Zy'yx feared that we would rise again. So he decreed that we were made to be the slaves of the Zylxxians because we were not living beings. But he made a slight error when he gave our race the name 'Pyronite'"

"What do you mean?" Kan asked. "Doesn't Pyronite mean 'fire-head'?"

"In Basic, yes," Jet conceded. "But it has a different definition in Zylxxian; it means 'conquered _people' _Don't you see? His excuse for enslaving us was that we weren't people, yet he gave us the name _Pyronite_ ––– which means that we are a conquered people, yes ––– but we are still people!"

Kan nodded. The whole puzzle was beginning to make sense; the estrangement between the Zylxxians and Zyzywlvlvians, even the whole concept that droids were a dishonorable creation. A Zylxxian ruler had formed the theory that droids were evil simply to enforce the Pyronite crackdowns, and to prevent any Zylxxian from ever befriending a pro-droid Zyzywlvlvian, and so harmonizing the two races. The whole Zylxxian codes weren't about keeping the peace; they were preventing peace from ever forming.

"I understand now," he said. "Thank you. Everything seems much clearer to me. This only further strengthens my point; the Zylxxians need your help more than ever. So, if you don't mind, will you come down with me?"

"But why should we?" Jet asked. "We are safe here."

"Because the Queen is going to get killed unless you show the Zylxxians that she's not the one who's leading your revolt!"

"That's odd. Why would she work against her own people?" Jet asked, puzzled. "The Zylxxians must have finally gone crazy. But no, Captain Enik, we cannot go back; they will only kill us."

"Kill you? They don't want you killed, they just want their slaves back," Kan explained. "They won't have you for long, though; not with us Jedi on the job. We're trying to send investigators to this system to straighten this out. The negotiating will go a lot more smoothly if there's a ruler alive, if you understand what I'm saying."

"We do," Jet answered. "But there is something else you do not know."

"And what is that?"

"I'm afraid I must bore you with another history lesson. The Syleetoian monarch, as you know, stays in office for a two-year term. After that, they cannot be reelected. The Zylxxians established this law because they know that if the rulers are changed every two years, they will never have a king or queen with enough power to bring the faulty Zylxxian code into line. Again, they do not want any Pyronite-sympathizers or pro-Zyzywlvlvians. So, fifty years ago, the seven thousand, two hundred and forty-third monarch of Syleeto ––– King Jjlaern ––– wanted to change that law. He is known as the most ambitious Zylxxian ruler in Syleetoian history, aside from King Zy'yx, that is. You will soon see why. Well, as you know, Zylxxians hate change, and so they started to protest against their king, thereby creating chaos. King Jjlaern knew he had to do something to appease the people, so he decided to silence them by leading a Pyronite massacre."

"Massacre? Heatrian told me you guys couldn't be killed," Kan said.

"He told you that because he was only protecting our vulnerability. We have guarded this secret with our lives. You see, King Jjlaern was a mad scientist who conducted experiments on Pyronites, and through one of these macabre tests he discovered the secret to killing us. So he planned a mass invasion in the uninhabited valleys of the remaining Pyronite tribes, destroying entire villages with his new weapon. The blasts were composed of water molecules that can penetrate through a Pyronite's epidermal layer, down to the ember in his heart. We can withstand rain, but only for a short period of time; if we are thrown into water, the fluid penetrates the fiery core of our being; our life force is extinguished, and we become hardened rocks on a barren landscape. This is what these negaquata weapons did to us."

"But why would he want to kill you?"

"Because the Zylxxians have always been a little afraid of us. They fear the mountains because they fear us," Jet smiled. "Once King Jjlaern exposed our vulnerability, it was a revelation for the Zylxxian race. Not only that, he had a double motive for crushing us. In his experiments, he discovered that our being hosts a rare and exotic mineral ––– Kataelectrum ––– that is a crucial component to a massive planetary-destruction cannon being developed in the Kiyp Belt. The facilities are on Cÿÿ, and I believe the CIS forces have been occupying it for some time now. At least the droids halted the production of the mass-destruction weapon, which is yet another good reason why we should allow the CIS to conquer Zylxxians."

Kan's heart was in his mouth. "So they've been killing you all off for fifty years just to develop a planetary destruction weapon? I thought the Zylxxians were peaceful."

"That's only what they wanted you to think," Jet answered grimly. "They have been planning a full-scale attack on their binary twin for some time. The invasion of the CIS only halted the destruction of Zyzywlvlv. We can only hope that the Zylxxians will destroy themselves before they can destroy anyone else."

Kan took a step backward. "I've got to get back to Zylxx!" he exclaimed. "I'm not positive, but I'm pretty sure that the ZOOM are in cooperation with the CIS."

"What? What makes you come to that crazy conclusion?" Jet asked.

"It's just a bad feeling," Kan replied. "If the Zylxxians really cared so much about Cÿÿ, they wouldn't have given up the facility so easily. They would have fought back. And now that someone _is _trying to get it back for them, they form a revolt to distract the invasion. Besides, I overheard an enemy communication about some plot to retake the planet. I think they sold their idea of the superweapon to the Seps, and in return, the CIS is going to blow up Zyzywlvlv."

"Why would they do that if the Zylxxians can do it themselves?"

"You know how the Zylxxians feel about outward appearance; if they destroy their own binary planet, they would lose the loyalty of other sectors of the Syleeto system, and eventually Zylxx would have to give up it's position as system capital. The droid army took over the facility more than a month ago. Once Zyzywlvlv is out of the way, the Zylxxians can just blame the Separatists for the obliteration of the planet. Besides, I've had a funny feeling about the Zylxxians ever since we've landed here. I didn't realize what it was until now, when you started to tell me about Pyronite history."

"What is it?"

"When we retreated to the planetary capital, a mob started to pelt food at us," Kan said. "I didn't think much of it, but then I remembered that Cÿÿ is the gateway for food imports. The CIS have been blocking all commerce between the Kiyp Belt and Zylxx for weeks. In Hÿÿ, there was a noticeable food shortage. The whole reason Commander Lee is in such a hurry to retake Cÿÿ is because Zylxx is starving to death. But if the Zylxxians are starving, why were they throwing food at us? Shouldn't they be saving it to eat?"

"So you think that the CIS has _not_ been blocking shipments this entire time?" Jet asked incredulously. "You mean to say that the Separatists have formed an alliance with the Zylxxians? Why would the Zylxxians do such a thing, after the droids released that plague upon their disgusting race? Don't forget that the Zylxxians hate droids."

"It sounds really out there," Kan admitted. "But the Force gives me insight into certain matters, and right now, I have a feeling that the Zylxxians really have betrayed their system. Haven't you heard the rumors of Hyrax releasing Actin 3? The Separatists started that. Do you remember the Queen's most trusted guard? Guess what he really was? A CIS agent. The entire Nebula Guard was sold to the Separatist faction, Jet, and I'm afraid that the Zylxxians have sold themselves, too."

"That is incredible, Jedi," the Pyronite murmured. "But then, with Zylxxians, I am not surprised."

"Now do you see why I've come?" Kan asked. "You've helped me more than anyone else has this entire mission, and you can help me even more by doing what the Zylxxians didn't do: saving your system from the droid threat."

Jet held up a hand. "Captain Enik, the leaders of the POOR are way ahead of you. Come with me for a moment." He grasped Kan firmly by the arm and hoisted him farther up the mountainside. When they reached a short outcropping about twenty-five meters above the other Pyronites, Jet let go of Kan and gestured at the vast wasteland around them. "First of all, I must tell you that our way of saving the galaxy is not the same as yours," Jet said. "What we must do, must be done here. Do not ask me why, for I will explain to you later. For now, I must tell you some things I think someone besides a Pyronite should know…for we will not be here long."

Kan frowned, confused at Jet's words. What did the Pyronite mean? "You can trust a Jedi. I'm listening."

"Good." Jet paused. "What I would like to tell you about first is something that does not exactly concern the situation at hand. It's about Heatrian."

It took a moment for Kan to overcome his surprise. "Heatrian?"

"Yes."

"What about him?"

"I think you need to know the circumstances of his life before he became a slave," Jet said. "Heatrian was born in this mountain ––– along with hundreds of others ––– from a Pyronite called Katri'andar Obsidi. For you see, Pyronites do not reproduce in a way that may seem natural to your kind.

"When a Pyronite female is ready to give birth, she must go down into the core of her family volcano ––– the mountain her first ancestor was birthed from ––– and there, she swells to unnatural proportions as she feeds on the energy of the core, and she breaks into hundreds of fragments, which each forms into a new Pyronite. That is why the females of our tribes are held in the highest respect, because they must sacrifice their very lives to keep their race in existence. Pyronites honor their parent by naming their tribe after their mother. Thus, Heatrian's mother was Katri-andar, so he was of the Katri'andar tribe, and I was born from Ash-tri, and thus I am of the Ash-tri tribe.

"The baby Pyronites ––– formed from the same mother ––– create their own little tribe and are usually led by the first Pyronite who matures. There can be as many as millions of tribes, all descendants of the same mountain, though some communities merge into one when tribes intermarry. As in the case of Heatrian's tribe, the leading member was a female called Mitaiya, who was a very strong-minded being. They were all born from Obsidi, but although Heatrian was a descendant of this mountain, he never knew it, because his tribe decided to move down into the Ton-law valley soon after they came into existence. He was one of the last to mature, so that is why he no longer remembers."

"Why did they move? Wouldn't they have been safer up in the mountain?" Kan asked.

"They moved because they had no choice. All the other Pyronites in the valleys were flocking to the mountains, seeking refuge from the marauders. They were too crowded here, and besides, Mitaiya wanted to protect her people down in the valley. So they went, and the entire Katri'andar tribe was slaughtered two years later; everyone except Heatrian, whom the Zylxxians took captive. Heatrian never learned the power his mother-volcano had to teach him."

"The mother-volcanoes can speak?" Kan shook his head, wondering if the Pyronites were deranged.

"The mountains can communicate to Pyronites born in their core," Jet answered. "When a Pyronite comes of an age, he must go out of the mountain and walk along the base of his mother-volcano. He must contemplate what he is destined for, and when he is sure of what he must do, he goes back to his tribe and acts according to what the mountain told him."

"What do you mean?"

"You Jedi have the Force to guide you," Jet pointed out. "The Pyronites are also guided by the Force. We believe in it, and our lives revolve around it. The volcanoes are strongly connected to the Force, and I believe the Force speaks to us through them."

"Your race is naturally Force-talented? Like Korriban natives and people from Dathomir?"

Jet nodded. "However, we do not practice ways of the dark side like they do. We are creatures of earth and fire, and these elements are part of the Living Force. We use our powers to protect what we love, for if we did not have knowledge of the Force, Zylxx would soon cease to exist."

"What would happen if you guys weren't here?"

"For centuries, the people of Syleeto have wondered why Zylxx and Zyzywlvlv have survived for so long, with an asteroid belt just outside their orbit. Usually, a planet so close to an asteroid field would have to weather countless meteor impacts, but as you can clearly see, neither Zylxx nor its twin has suffered from this catastrophe. The biggest craters on Zylxx are barely two meters wide. There have been sightings of incoming showers capable of destroying an entire civilization, but none have ever given the planets significant damage. Zylxxians have been unable to explain this, except by theorizing that they are the Supreme Species, and are therefore protected from elimination. This, however, is not true. It is all on account of the mountain-Pyronites ––– the people they are slaughtering ––– that the balance has not been upset."

"You mean that the Pyronites can tell when a meteor impact is coming, and they can use the Force to deflect it away from its path?" Kan asked, amazed. "Why hasn't your race just used the Force to keep the Zylxxians off your back?"

"Like the Jedi, we believe that the Force should only be used for defense, never to attack," Jet replied. "Also, the Pyronites can only use the Force on objects made of stone, earth or fire; not living beings."

"But you can't just let them kill you all off like this!" Kan exclaimed. "You must have a plan to do _something; _why else would you have formed a revolt?"

"We do have a plan," Jet said patiently. "The Zylxxians have a saying, 'If you can't conquer, destroy.' We plan to use their own philosophy against them. It will mean sacrificing the people we love and the earth we were sprung from…but at least we will die saving the galaxy that we could not live without."

"I don't like the tone of your voice," Kan said, a cold feeling settling in the back of his throat. Jet was beginning to sound like Stari. "What are you planning to do?"

"We are not planning to do anything," Jet replied. "A large meteor shower is approaching this world. We sighted it last week and used the Force to cloak it, so that the Zylxxians will never see it coming. We are planning to let the planet take the full blow of the shower. Not only that, we will aid in the destruction of the planet by inciting the volcanoes we were born from to erupt."

Kan didn't wait to hear more. Within a microsecond, he had withdrawn his lightsaber and had it pointed at Jet. "On behalf of the Galactic Republic, I cannot allow you to do this."

"It is not your place to question our decision," Jet said calmly. "This is our world, and our lives."

"And this planet is part of the Republic, so it is under my protection," Kan replied. "It is my duty. Give up this suicidal plan now! You cannot save Zyzywlvlv by destroying Zylxx, and neither can you save Zylxx by destroying Zyzywlvlv."

"I was afraid you'd say that," Jet sighed. "Friends of Zylxxians are blandly predictable. POOR, secure the Jedi!" he said in a different tone of voice. Immediately, several Pyronites stepped into view, encircling Kan. He adjusted his stance, bringing his lightsaber into a defensive position.

"Lightsabers are useless against us, the true Supreme Beings of the galaxy!" Jet shouted.

Kan saw that it was useless, but nevertheless knew that he couldn't surrender to these maniacs. Instead, he deactivated his lightsaber and contemplated a more effective strategy. He sat down in the middle of his attackers, going into a meditative stance.

The Pyronites hesitated in attacking him, for they saw that he wasn't holding a weapon anymore. They waited, no doubt thinking that he was about to surrender.

But Kan was never going to surrender.

_I'm outnumbered, and I'm alone. There's no way I can get out of here alive._

_ "No one is alone when they have the Force to guide them."_

He closed his eyes and placed a hand on the ground, feeling the vibrations in the earth, allowing the Living Force to flow through him. Even though his eyelids obscured the land around him, through the Force he could see the slow ooze of lava seep into the ground, and the ash suspended in the air by the wind that kicked up around them.

He could sense fire in the heavens above him, and he knew that the cataclysmic eruptions, plus the meteor shower, were about to start. At most, the Zylxxians would have three hours to evacuate the planet. Three hours wasn't enough, but he had to somehow use the time that was given to him.

_Maybe I can do what the Pyronites do and prevent the meteors from hitting Zylxx…_

_ "But how will you stop the volcanoes from erupting?"_

He didn't have time to formulate a plan. He had to focus on the problem now, and deal with the future later.

Then he saw it. A large rock, teetering upon the brink of a shelf several hundred meters above them. The stone was huge, nearly twenty times the size of Kan. It would've taken at least two Klamins to dislodge it.

Kan remembered the one time he had had to Force-push a rock that size down a cliffside on Geonosis. That time, it had been to destroy a pack of savage massiffs that had attacked. He had barely been able to free the stone, and that time had been with help from the Wicked Club.

But he was stronger now. _Much _stronger. Thanks to Adriaan.

He raised both hands above his head, calling upon the Force with all his strength, as he had never done before. In his mind, he grasped the rock, wrapping his arms around it in a tight hug. It was hard, and solid, and heavy.

_Size matters not._

"I didn't know Jedi surrendered," a Pyronite murmured to his companions.

He felt the veins inside his body bursting as his muscles tightened, and he took a firmer grip on the rock. He pushed up on it, and was rewarded with a slight wobble.

He opened his eyes triumphantly. "Jedi don't surrender. H-h-h-h-h-h-h-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a!!!"

The scream was torn unexpectedly from his guts as he stood up, resisting against the weight of the stone that was trying to crush him into the ground. He gave a mighty heave, and heard the sharp report far above as the rock began to roll down the mountainside.

"He's dislodged part of the mountain! Get him!" Jet screamed. The Pyronites advanced, wildly swinging their semi-hardened lava fists. Obviously, they weren't intending to kill him, otherwise they would've been shooting fire at him. They just wanted to knock him out and get him off the planet unconscious. That, at least, was a slightly comforting thought; they weren't insane enough to kill him with the rest of Zylxx. It was revenge on the people that had enslaved them that they wanted, not the death of the Republic Captain. They probably didn't want to die with the blood of a Jedi on their hands.

The Pyronites were distracted by the swiftly approaching avalanche of stone, so it was easy for Kan to duck out of the ring and leap off the side of the mountain, landing lightly on his feet several meters down. He began to run, struggling to keep his balance as the ground shook and rumbled beneath him. He knew that being buried in solid rock wouldn't kill the Pyronites. His goal had been to hamper their progress on the destruction of Zylxx, not destroy them. Anyway, even if he had wanted to kill them, he knew that he couldn't. So his primary objective was to get off the mountain before the avalanche caught up with him, for a single rock the size of his head could kill him, if it was aimed properly.

He tripped over a shallow fissure and sprawled on his face. He yanked his foot free from the crack and began limping as fast as he could.

_I have to do something, _he thought desperately, _but what? I can't contact a clone gunship to pick me up because I'll only expose the clones to the virus. I need to get to a vehicle, and fast; I think I sprained my ankle in that fall. _

He tried to ignore the burning pain in his foot, but it was next to impossible. He stumbled and fell as the mountain rocked from underneath him. He clawed at the gravel to get to his knees, but another rumbled threw him back on his face. He was too weak and hampered by the protective suit to get up.

The last thing he remembered was rocks falling on top of him.

* * * * *

"Why do we always get the GOODEST job on earth?" Kien complained.

"Shh! Quiet!" Minir huffed, his ear pressed to a comm receiver. "I'm listening to the secret transmission Jahn Pal and Sai'wer picked up."

"How did you do that?" Andre asked the cousins incredulously. "I thought you guys were supposed to be stupid."

"What does stupid mean?" Jahn Pal asked innocently.

"Silence, GOODS!" Aedan screamed, entering the data office. "WICKED Minir is trying to concentrate on his WICKED duties!"

"Thanks, Aedan," Minir muttered, glaring across the room at the Wicked King.

The day had not started WICKEDLY. Ever since Aedan had received that communication from Kay Lee giving the Wicked Club orders to protect the Queen and prevent the ZOOM from uprising, the boys had been sitting around the palace, wishing that the planet wasn't starving to death, because at least then they could occupy their thoughts and time on food. Kan was in the mountains somewhere, probably about to fall into a volcano pit, and no one was left around to annoy except Andora, who tried to stay out of their way as much as possible. Besides, it wasn't that fun to annoy her because she made them feel sleepy with her dull, verbose comments.

Kay Lee hadn't left them with nothing to do; she had given them a list of chores, primarily patrolling the city and guarding the Queen against marauders. Of course, chores were on the GOOD list, so the Wicked Club had forgotten all about it. Until today, that is.

They had just finished painting an entire section of a building with WICKED graffiti when Aedan remembered the checklist. "I think we should WICKEDLY get the comm systems functioning again, like GOOD old Kay Lee told us to," he had said on the spur of the moment.

Of course, everyone had agreed to that plan ––– no one was allowed to disagree anyway ––– even Andora, who always seemed to want the opposite of what Aedan wanted. So in the end, Na'thin was left at the palace to guard Hyrax, Terry and Andre and Sai'wer were sent out on patrol, and the rest of them had gotten to work on the comm systems.

Thanks to Minir, they had gotten the systems up and running in no time. But surprisingly, it had been Jahn Pal who had first stumbled upon a communication going on just outside the capital.

"Hey, I just found the moron HoloNet station!" Jahn Pal had called as he adjusted the frequency.

"You finally figured out to look for it in your head?" Minir had remarked sarcastically. Suddenly his eyes had widened when he realized what the boy was doing. "No, Jahn Pal you GOOD, stop! That's highly sensitive –––"

"…We are almost ready to unleash the secret weapon on Cÿÿ…"

Andre had sat bolt upright at this. "Jahn Pal, turn it up."

"_X'yi makta-ray chuni pleito."_

Jahn Pal had sniffed. "Aw, they're speaking in an exotic language. Basic, it sounds like. I don't understand Basic –––"

"Give that to me, you idiot!" Minir had said, grabbing the receiver. "Everyone WICKEDLY speaks Basic!"

"Really? And to think I've never noticed until now –––"

After plugging in the automatic translator, they had been able to figure out that it was someone from Zylxx communicating with a CIS personage on Cÿÿ. That was when Aedan had returned from lunch break to see how they were doing. Now the Wicked Club and Andora crowded around the comm system attentively as the conversation continued.

"We were getting nowhere with the experiments," the Zylxxian was saying now. "So it was our lucky break when the war broke out and you needed this system…the Republic knows nothing about the sale we negotiated. Our chief ZOOM agent tipped us off that Captain Enik is investigating our revolt…last time we checked, he was spotted on a gunship headed for the mountains. It's only a matter of time before he discovers that we sold Cÿÿ so that your advanced technology could perfect the weapon plans. By the way, is the Republic fleet taken care of?"

Taken care of? That didn't sound too WICKED.

"They have been completely annihilated, even the Republic cruisers," the CIS agent answered.

"No survivors, General Epi'do?"

General Epi'do! The Padawans looked at each other significantly. Epi'do was the former commander of the Nebula Guard ––– a Zylxxian force meant to protect the Queen. The guard had disbanded when Actin 3 had broken out, and Epi'do had been revealed as a Separatist spy.

"Do not mention any names," Epi'do said sharply. "You may have faked a communications block-out, but there's no telling when the Jedi discover this and put the systems online again. In answer to your question, the CIS do not take prisoners; the clones and the Jedi Commander have been pulverized. Good riddance to Commander ell Talaan."

The Wicked Club snickered. Stupid GOOD.

"General, Commander ell Talaan is currently not leading the Republic troops in this sector," the Zylxxian said. "Commander Lee is the one in charge…_was _the commanding officer, I should say."

There was a sharp hiss. "Commander ell Talaan may return at any time with reinforcements! This can't happen. You must commence with Order Seven immediately."

"But when will the secret weapon be finished? We made a bargain, you know! We overthrow the Queen and give you our base, and you adjust the final designs of the weapon and destroy –––"

"I remember the bargain! It will be ready in two days. You cannot rush the production. Now get your agents out there and execute the plan! Commander ell Talaan must not have a base to come back to!"

"Of course, of course. Right away, General."

The transmission ended abruptly. The Apprentices sat there for a moment in silence.

Aedan was always the first one to react. He did so by standing up and rapidly dialing in the scramble setting on his comlink for Na'thin. His WICKED con artist picked up the transmission immediately. "This is the WICKED Na'thin Express. May I take your WICKED order?"

"Major change of WICKED plan," Aedan said abruptly. "Stay at the palace until further notice."

"Gotcha. So, you want an extra-WICKEDLY-large mug of Jawa juice with that bucket of cheese fries?"

"Whatever you do, don't let that silly GOOD monarch out of you sight," Aedan said. "WICKED leader over and out."

"Copy, WICKED leader."

Aedan shut off the comlink and looked at the others. "Ready, WICKEDS?"

"Ready!" they all shouted.

Andora was the only one who had no idea what Aedan's WICKED plan was. "I infer by your unintelligible exchange that you've already formulated a strategy?" she asked.

Aedan nodded. "That was an interplanetary transmission we WICKEDLY intercepted. One of them had to have been a GOOD old ZOOM agent, which means that the Zylxxians have been playing womp rat with us."

"It sounds like they GOODLY sold the asteroid base to the CIS." Andre wrinkled his nose in distaste. "Traitors."

"I wonder what that GOOD old secret weapon thing was," Minir muttered.

"We'll find out WICKEDLY soon enough," Kien said.

"Ooh! Ooh! Does that mean we get to take a nap?" Jahn Pal queried.

"Yeah, I'm starving," Sai'wer added.

"Well, first of all, I don't see how taking a GOOD old nap is related to WICKEDLY searching the WICKED slums for that GOOD old ZOOM rebellion," Aedan said. "Secondly, naps don't prevent you from GOODLY starving."

"Oh? It doesn't?" the cousins were clearly disappointed.

"Stupid GOODS," Minir muttered darkly.

"At least you guys WICKEDLY tried," Kien said, patting them on the back.

"Okay, here's the plan, WICKEDS," Aedan said. "WICKED me, Sai'wer, and WICKED Kien will take team WICKED Blue. Andre, I'm WICKEDLY sorry about this, but you need to go with grumpy old Minir for team WICKED Red. WICKED Terry and stupid Jahn Pal, you are WICKED Green team. Scout out the WICKED area…wherever this stupid old ZOOM base is, we'll find it, and who made that GOOD transmission."

"I'll remain in this respective location and endeavor to trace that signal," Andora offered. "It shouldn't be excessively onerous, considering they didn't exert to scramble it."

The boys exchanged confused glances and shrugged.

"She said she'll stay here and trace where the communication came from," Minir informed them ungraciously. "Can we WICKEDLY go now?"

"Thanks for the WICKED translation, WICKED-O," Aedan said. "All right, WICKEDS, move out!"


	19. They Will Not be Trained

chapter 19

"No. They will not be trained."

There. It was done. Mace had said the dreaded word, the word she had known all along that was going to come from his mouth. The word that left you with a feeling of disappointment, and pain, and loss.

The word "No"

To hope had been foolish. She had known that all along; still, she had a hard time registering the fact that Mace Windu had just said, "No." She had fully expected this answer, so why was it taking so long for the reality of it all to sink in?

_This is all because I dared to believe. I dared to have hope of a better life…of making other people's lives better. _

The Council was silent, watching her, waiting passively for her reaction. They took no notice of Klamin and Heatrian, who gaped with disbelief at the answer. In a fleeting moment, Adriaan visualized how much agony those two were going through at the moment. _What must it feel like_, she wondered, _to know that you had failed so utterly at the thing your life had revolved around; what you had always dreamed of achieving?_

"_You felt that once, long ago. Imagine what it must feel like for _them, _who actually had _feelings _to be crushed?"_

Anger began to fill the emptiness inside her. How could the Jedi do this? How could they possibly be so cruel as to kill the hopes and dreams the two children standing beside her had virtually lived on all their dreary, monotonous lives? The worst part was that she had fed their hope, allowed to it mature and blossom under her hand, letting them dare to believe that the Jedi would ever consider taking them. She had let them down just because the Council decided to be stubborn about a particular rule. It just wasn't fair.

She herself had thought that they would accept Klamin and Heatrian. After all, the Council was already in the process of amending one rule, so what was the problem of altering a couple of other rules as well? Times had changed since the formation of the Republic. There was a shortage of Jedi, and they needed Jedi to command the Republic troops. Without enough Jedi Knights, who would protect the right to peace, freedom, and justice?

If Adriaan were the Council, she would make a motion to Knight Apprentices that had shown their wisdom and skill in desperate situations, and she would also allow older beings to begin studying at the Temple. The war had created plenty of orphans, and she was sure that many of them would find a welcome home with the Jedi. There were many Force-sensitives in the galaxy around them; the Jedi just had to look. The Jedi rule was beginning to look like bantha fodder in the light of this logic. Why wasn't the Council being realistic for once?

As her mind went along this train of thought, she felt her heart rate slow down to a calmer pace. Her fists unclenched. She was not going to explode in anger and frustration. She was not going to let them know how she really felt. It would only make the terrible situation even worse. So she looked Mace Windu in the face and waited several minutes before speaking. "But _Why?_"

Her voice was cold, measured, challenging. The Jedi, at first, looked taken aback at her reaction, and she soon realized why they seemed shocked. They were testing her, wondering what she would do if they provoked her. They had expected her to lash out in anger. An icy lump formed in her stomach as she struggled to keep her gaze steady on the Masters in front of her. Icy beads of sweat formed on her hairline. It was obvious now that Klamin and Heatrian weren't the only ones on trial. This would be a test for 'Master' Adriaan as well.

Her fingers bit into her palms to control her shaking body. She wasn't afraid of _them; _she knew what true fear was, her Master had taught her well. No; she was afraid not what they would do to her, but what _she _would do as a reaction to what they would do. She was afraid of failure.

Yoda took up the cue from Master Windu. "Surprised, you are. Expected this judgement, you did not?"

"I know how the Council is about the Jedi Code," Adriaan said. "It has existed for millennia, and until now it has not failed us. That is why we have lived so strictly and faithfully by it. But could it be, that in this time ––– when the galaxy is destroying itself ––– our rules that shape our way of life with finally fail us?"

"Considered this, we have. Know this, already, you do," Yoda answered. "For always in motion, the future is. But the laws of our predecessors, we must respect."

"Things were much different back then."

"We were much stronger, and had more insight into matters," Mace pointed out. "Our ability to use the Force has diminished since that age. Would you expect a child to know more than his father?"

_Well, _I _knew some things my own Master didn't, and Masters are supposed to be like parents, right?_

"But you are allowing me to take on an entire Padawan Clan, which has been unheard of since the days of the Old Republic," Adriaan argued. "That is a direct violation of the code!"

"Of course, you know that there are some exceptions," Ki-Adi said.

"As in the case of the Chosen One," Master Gallia added.

"For even the Jedi of the Old Republic could not foresee everything," Shaak Ti finished.

"Exactly. In spite of their power, they were not perfect," Adriaan said. "Because now we know that they did not destroy all the sith, as we had first thought."

"Evil, I fear, present forever in the universe, it will," Yoda confirmed.

"But the Jedi made a mistake there; you can't deny it," Adriaan persisted. "Therefore, could it be possible that they made some minor errors when they wrote the Jedi Code?"

"Is it ever a mistake to spare a life?" Master Plo asked.

Adriaan had to admit that he was right. But she wasn't going to back down so easily. "Still, you said exceptions have been made. For example, Anakin Skywalker came to the Temple when he was beyond the age of training, but you took him anyway, him being the Chosen One and all. And you also made exceptions with me because of the situations of my Apprenticeship and Force connection and all that. So why can't these two boys be made an exception, too? They certainly have more potential than I."

"How many children in a year do you think we turn away?" Mace asked. "How many tearful guardians and begging students have we had to turn down? If we dropped everything and took these two boys in now, how do we explain why we have turned away others that have been more connected to the Force?"

"It does not matter how we look in the galaxy's eyes, but what we truly are."

"Breaking this rule would encourage others to be broken. Would you have the Temple fall in pieces around our ears?"

"But you are already amending a Jedi rule –––"

"Amending is not the same as breaking. Amending is repairing something that does not function properly. Breaking is a completely different concept. It is destructive. You are not asking us to amend, you are asking us to break. And this, we cannot do."

"Then tell me why my request is any different from your request for me to train multiple students along with an elite clone squad –––"

Yoda shook his head. "No, no, there is no _why. _ Always demanding explanations, you are. Answer these questions for yourself, you must. Help you, we no longer can. Regret our decision, we will not."

She thought for several moments. She knew that she was fighting a losing battle with the Council, even if she was right. But she just couldn't take their verdict calmly. "Then can you tell me your reasons for turning them down? You said they passed the test. What else is there for them to prove?"

"They are strong in the Force," Ki-Adi said. "_Incredibly _strong.They each have a Force connection equal to Darc Chun-be's at least. And that is a high compliment, considering Darc was thought to be the Chosen One before Skywalker was discovered. But, like Anakin, they have formed attachments to the outside world."

"Klamin is too old," Master Gallia added.

"But that cannot possibly be the only reason –––"

"You're right," Mace Windu said. "There is a deeper motive to our misgivings. Katma did not have an encouraging report to give us. Normally, we would dismiss a slight show of aggression, for these feelings are only natural, and can be overcome through proper training."

"Much darkness, there is, in Klamin's past," Yoda said suddenly. "Perceived much of his past life in his visions, I did. Much suffering, I foresee in the future, bring you, he will."

"But I did not envision myself giving Master ell Talaan pain," Klamin protested. "I assure you, I would rather die than bring suffering to her."

"Clouded, your future is. Confusion of your will ––– confusion between light and dark, virtue and vice, good and evil, love and hatred ––– confusion of these I sense in you," Yoda told him.

"I am willing to suffer. I am not afraid," Adriaan said quickly, defending Klamin.

"Last night, a dream, I had," Yoda announced. "Tell you of it, I will. Before I begin, tell you, I will, that approve of Heatrian becoming an Apprentice, I do. Consider him on your behalf, we will. But Klamin, never."

"Klamin?" Adriaan glanced sidelong at the boy, thinking back to the day she had first met him. He had been deceptive at first…but downright evil, she thought not.

_Anyway, I am deceptive about some things too…_

"Heatrian I would expect you guys to be a little skeptical on; him with his Wicked Club attitude and all. But Klamin has a solid mind with a solid purpose. He's a little headstrong, but willing. He has a good heart, though his feelings are confused at times. Why would he be a threat?"

"Of the future, I envisioned," Yoda continued. "On a dying world, you were. Blinded and alone, you lay. But the pain of your body that moved me to pity, it was not. Broken, your mind, heart, and spirit, will be."

"I would _never _break Adriaan's heart, Honored Master," Klamin said, his voice more passionate than was necessary. Adriaan's face colored at the tone of his voice.

"'Never' you say now," Yoda said, shaking his head sadly. "Klamin, there is no 'never' Angry, you are, of something even the Council see, it does not. Anger, the path to the sith, it is. It leads to hate, and when you hate, suffer, those whom you love will. I sense much of this in you."

"With training, he can be freed of it," Adriaan said. "I was like him too, once, so I know how to help him."

Yoda looked at her. "Interference from you, there must not be. Help him, you cannot. Help himself, he must. Nothing, the Jedi has to offer him."

Adriaan opened her mouth, then closed it silently, staring at the Council as if they were distant stars in the heavens, impossible to reach. As she stood there, she realized that when she walked out of the room, she would become inexplicably older than when she had first strode in. She was very still, pondering the great Master's words.

As she thought, she glanced at Klamin and Heatrian, the cause of all the fuss and debate. They were looking at her trustfully, loyally, expecting her to protect them. Pain filled her heart as she stared at them. There was no way to help them now. She had failed them. And herself as well. She would never be the great Jedi who faced the darkness alone, protecting those who had no one to save them. She would never be like that. Why did they believe that she _could?_

_ Do what you think you cannot do._

_ It will be a hard life_…

_You will have no regret._

_ Or despair._

_ It will be a hard life._

_One without Reward, or Remorse._

_ But you will find out who you are._

She raised her head, standing tall. Facing the Council, who was not exactly an enemy, but was against her nevertheless. They would not protect Heatrian and Klamin. But she could, and _would. _It would be hard, but that was what a Jedi's life was.

_Regret our decision, we will not._

She squared her shoulders and met Yoda's gaze fearlessly. "Then, since it is obvious there is no way I can persuade you, I ––– as head trainer of the first Padawan Clan of the Jedi Order ––– am obliged to choose my own Apprentices."

The Jedi shifted in their seats. Some murmured, looking suspiciously at her, calculating her next move.

"Of course," Mace said slowly. "But you must choose those already enlisted as Apprentices. The orphaned ones, preferably."

Adriaan struggled to keep her face straight. She had them in checkmate…technically. "Agreed," she said. "I have already made my choices."

Klamin jumped, surprised at the sudden conclusion of the debate. He didn't understand what she was doing for him. Not yet. He didn't know that she was putting her entire reputation as a Jedi Knight at stake. She was juggling with her life in her hands.

"To begin, my own Apprentice, Kan Enik, will be the Clan team captain," Adriaan said. "He will help me keep order among the younger Padawans."

"Young Kan has shown skill in leadership," Master Mundi said, nodding in approval.

"Kay Lee is too old and advanced in her training than the others I have chosen," Adriaan continued. "Taking this into fact, I would like to promote her as assistant trainer of the Varactyl Clan. Do I have your permission –––?"

"Pleased with your decision, we are," Yoda said, his eyes glinting with…was it amusement? Adriaan wasn't sure.

_Not yet, Yoda. Wait till I'm finished_…

"The eight members of the Wicked Club will join the Clan, and if you accept Heatrian into the Jedi Order, then I will incorporate him into the clan as well. Aedan Kenobi's twin sibling, Andora, is also welcome. Today, I have made my choices for the remaining Apprentices. They are Marya Yon, Jordin Skraps, and Nic Modd. The clan is to be named the Varactyl Clan because a Varactyl is fast, agile, and bold, and that is what I want the clan to be like."

"Fourteen ––– maybe fifteen ––– Apprentices, you have," Yoda said. "Agreed to sixteen, you did."

"Yes, I am fully aware. I will only choose one more Apprentice, because I want to save a slot for Heatrian. Klamin, stop fidgeting and come stand in front of me."

Klamin walked in front of her nervously. She placed her hand on his shoulder and looked at the Council. "This is the final member of the Clan."

Mace Windu smiled. "Master ell Talaan has forgotten her promise not to take non-students as her Apprentices."

"I did not forget my promise, either to you or to this young man standing here with me. Klamin and Heatrian have been students of the Night Falcon, and he is an authorized Jedi trainer, though he does not live at the Temple anymore."

"He is an ex-Jedi and he may not even exist."

"Then how do you explain the formal training they've had?" Adriaan asked. "Klamin and Heatrian may be reckless, but that can be reversed. The Night Falcon chose exile on his own; he did not formally leave the Jedi Order, he just left to find inner peace that apparently, he has not found yet. When he finds it, I know he will return."

"You know nothing of the Night Falcon," Mace said sharply.

"Klamin has completed his studies ––– he has taken classes at the Jedi Temple, both from me and Katma ––– so he is qualified to be Chosen as an Apprentice."

"You may take the Pyronite as your Apprentice," Windu said sternly. "But we will not permit you to take the Shi'Odo."

But Adriaan would not listen to them. She could barely hear what Mace Windu was saying. She drew the two boys closer to her and spoke in a loud, clear voice. "Klamin Lashni and Heatrian Katri-andar Obsidi J'Oli, I place you under my protection and skill as an authorized Jedi Master and Commander of the Jedi Republic." She bowed to the Council. "Now, I fear that I am impelled to adjourn this session; as I was on my way here, I received a distress signal from my clone Commander. The communication was cut off before he could finish, but I was told that Commander Lee is leading a second attack on Cÿÿ while my Apprentice is back on Zylxx. I cannot avoid this; I have a bad feeling that things are going to end up in a catastrophe if I don't get back there now. If any of you wish to challenge my decision, I will be happy to debate with you by comlink. I did not spend my entire time in idleness while you were in session. I researched the databanks in the Jedi Archives, and found out that because of the interesting circumstances of the Night Falcon's self-exile, any student that trains under him is also legally a student belonging to the Jedi Order. I have given this matter sufficient reflection, for while I had hoped you would accept them, I feared for the worst, and prepared for it. Please, do not hold this action against me. May the Force be with all of you."

She turned to go, but Master Windu called her back. "Commander ell Talaan!"

She half-turned, expecting the worst. "Yes?"

"You may come to regret this decision later on," Mace Windu told her icily. "Think well on the choice you are making here."

Adriaan smiled grimly. "A Jedi lives with no regrets."

Then, with a poise and dignity she did not feel, she marched out of the chambers.

"Wow, I'm glad that's over," Klamin said as he walked into the turbolift.

Adriaan did not answer him. She was too angry, and felt that if she even opened her mouth, she would explode. She had never felt so ashamed in her entire life. She had talked back to the Council, even argued with them, but Jedi had done that before her and gotten away with it. The scandalizing part of it was that she walked out the door in complete defiance of a direct Council order. She would not be surprised if she got a message that evening telling her that she had been expelled.

_But at least I fulfilled my duty as a Jedi Knight and put these two Apprentices under my care, _she thought with some satisfaction as she glanced sidelong at the relieved faces of Klamin and Heatrian.

_"Is disobeying your Jedi peers part of your duty?"_

"So, where are we WICKEDLY going now, Adriaan?" Heatrian asked.

Adriaan stared at the closed turbolift doors for a long time. "Back to Syleeto, of course, as soon as this…this _danged _turbolift gets moving."

Heatrian looked scared at the tone of voice she was using; by the expression on his face, one would think she had just used a swear word rather than just plain old "dang" Klamin, however, still maintained his air of happiness.

"Well, the turbolift isn't going to go anywhere until you program the floor level you want to get to," he said casually, pointing at the row of buttons with the different floor levels printed on them.

"Oh, duh. Thanks." Adriaan furiously pushed the level for her quarters. She had been so angry that she was paying no attention to what she was doing. The turbolift immediately dropped, leaving her stomach meters above her as they zoomed down. When the doors finally opened again, they stepped out into the hallway.

"Go get your things," Adriaan said abruptly. "I need to contact the garrison officer and alert the 503rd of the change in plans. There's a fleet of ships prepped for takeoff in hangar 26B. We'll depart in an hour. Frigate _LightningStrike. _So get to the garrison as fast as you can."

"Yes, Adriaan."

"By the way, it's not Adriaan," she snapped. "Since I'm your Master, I deserve some respect from you."

"Okay, Master, sorry." Klamin's forehead wrinkled, concerned.

"And it's not 'Master' either. I don't even know if I'm allowed to be a Jedi anymore. At least they can't take away my rank as Commander. Just call me Commander or ma'am, like the clones."

"Yes ma'am," Klamin said, crestfallen. He turned to go with Heatrian.

Immediately, Adriaan felt sorry about how she had treated them. After all, it wasn't their fault that the Council was being stubborn.

"Wait, guys," she said, trying to soften her voice. "I'm sorry I'm being a jerk right now, but it's been a very stressful and disappointing day."

"I'll consider GOODLY forgiving you," Heatrian said huffily, stomping out of sight.

"We understand, Commander," Klamin said gently, smiling at her. "By the way, thanks for standing up for us back there. It was really tough until you came along."

"You had to face the visions, didn't you."

She saw him shudder. "Yeah. I'd rather not be reminded about it; it was not a pleasant experience."

"I understand. I had to go through it myself. I'll see you briefly."

She turned to go, but Klamin called her back. "Even if they expel you or whatever, I want you to know that I think you're the best Jedi ever. I am very proud to be your student, ma'am."

"It will be an honor to train you, Klamin J'Oli," Adriaan said, bowing.

"May the Force be with you, Commander ell Talaan."

"And with you…and Klamin? I didn't really mean it when I told you to call me Commander or any of that other trash. Just call me Adriaan."

Klamin grinned and saluted mockingly. "Yes sir!"

* * * * *

Adriaan would always remember the day she first marched before her legion. The Coruscanti sun was beginning to melt below the horizon, and a red sunbeam bathed the generic white soldiers in a crimson light as they marched in perfect formation toward the ships that would take them to Syleeto.

She stood before the clones, her dark hood casting a shadow over her face. It was a gusty evening, and it sent a chill through her body. She hugged her cloak to herself to keep warm. The sudden cold was strange weather for Coruscant.

Adriaan wasn't the only one that was freezing. Jordin's lips were blue, and her thin shoulders were shaking from underneath her white thermal cape. Nic bounced up and down to get the circulation to flow, while Marya simply clenched her teeth to keep herself from shivering. Adriaan wondered if her clones were cold. Klamin certainly wasn't; he was standing right where the wind was heaviest, clothed in a short-sleeved tunic and wearing no shoes. He seemed to enjoy the abrupt drop in temperature.

"March!" Adriaan shouted, her voice getting lost in the wind. She yelled louder. "SOLDIERS MARCH!"

She strode forward purposefully, marching to the rhythm of nine thousand, two hundred and sixteen pairs of boots stomping into the duracrete. The five Apprentices fell into lockstep right behind her.

_Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump._

She felt her heart soar to the staccato beat, and her pulse pounded in time as each foot lifted simultaneously and thunked resoundingly on the ground. _Thump. Thump. Thump._

The _thump_s turned to _clank_s as her legion ascended the huge ramp of the _Republic's Hope ––– _the leading craft of the fleet. Beside the magnificent Republic cruiser, two assault cruisers lay, ready for takeoff ––– they were called the _Fortitude _and the _Victory._ The Grand Army of the Republic had been gracious enough to spare two more legions to accompany the 503rd to Syleeto, for Adriaan did not know how strong the CIS blockade and ground infantry would be. She had received no news the entire week she had been gone, and she feared the worst had happened. Kan wasn't that great of a pilot; he could've been blown up in a space battle. And Kay Lee…Kay Lee was a strong fighter, skilled in almost everything, but even the most talented could be brought down.

She felt very professional and military-like as she stormed all the way to the command bridge. A clone crew had already prepped the cruiser and were preparing for takeoff. Adriaan walked up to the front control and stared out through the transparisteel windows of the command bridge. Skipp immediately assumed his position as executive command bridge naval officer and began to rap out orders to the crew, while Ember inspected the elite force.

"CT-7572, has the preflight check been completed?"

"Checking starboard engines now, sir."

"Contact the tower and request departure. Initiate takeoff."

"Yes, sir!"

"Straight line, boys. Look alive!" Ember shouted. "Rez, heels together! I'd better hear them click! Wolf, eyes forward! Keep that blaster rifle tight against your shoulder, Lance."

"Sir, yes sir!"

The next fifteen minutes seemed to go by in a blur of commands. Next thing Adriaan knew, she was staring out at the dark regions of space, facing the two bright specks in the sky that she knew were Sy and Leeto, the binary suns that Zylxx was orbiting. To think that in a little more than twenty-four hours, she would see Kan again…

"Crew awaiting orders, ma'am," Skipp said, snapping to attention a few paces behind her.

"Prep the hyperdrive and plot a course to the Syleeto system."

"Yes, ma'am!"

As the _Republic's Hope_ was preparing the jump to lightspeed, Klamin joined her up on the bridge. He stood beside her, looking out into the black sky mottled with the heavenly lights of stars and planets as they rotated around the galaxy.

"Adriaan, I –––" he began, but she held up a hand silently.

"Now is not the time to talk. I am not going to do anything before I get Cÿÿ and my Apprentice back," she said.

"Apprentices," Klamin reminded her.

She looked away from the screen and grinned back at him. "Right. Apprentices."

Together, they watched as the stars became streaks of light and faded into the blackness as the ship blasted into the mesmerizing blue of hyperspace.

_I'm coming back for you, Kan. Just hang in there._


	20. Kestrel

chapter 20

He awoke to find himself in a place filled with a blinding whiteness. He sat up, blinking to get his eyes adjusted to the unaccustomed brightness. He was no longer clothed in his protective suit. He was dressed in a simple, flimsy, white medic gown. As his vision became clearer, he could discern odd, shuffling figures moving around him; he soon figured out that they were droids. But droids, on Zylxx? Kan felt like laying back down and going back to sleep, but curiosity managed to keep him awake.

"Jedi are quick to recover, I see. You were hit pretty hard."

Kan started. The voice had an odd, robotic quality to it, yet it had almost sounded human.

"Where am I?"

"I do not know how much time I have to tell you; there's less than two and a half hours to spare before Zylxx is hit."

Then Kan remembered. He staggered to his feet. "You're right; I'd better get going. But what should I do?"

"We'll start by taking my speeder to the capital. We'll talk about everything on the way."

Kan hesitated. After dealing with Stari and Jet, he was wary of people who seemed like they wanted to befriend him. But if this man ––– or droid ––– had wanted to kill him, why hadn't he just left Kan to the mercy of the mountains?

He had to take this chance. Time was running out for Zylxx, and Zyzywlvlv, too. The CIS couldn't be too far away from completing the superweapon.

"Who are you?" Kan asked.

"No time," the voice said. "Follow me. It is not far."

A hand reached out toward Kan, and he recoiled when he realized what it was. "You're a cyborg?"

"I immigrated here several years ago," the man answered, grabbing Kan firmly by his droid arm. "A year ago, I had a little accident. Speeder crash. This way."

He was led out into a dark corridor that smelled of damp and decay. Kan gagged as the foul stench seeped down his throat. "What is this place?"

"Catacombs…there's a whole network of them connecting the different cities," the stranger replied, dragging Kan to a small speeder that was parked in the gloom. "I live down here because I would be disintegrated by the Zylxxians if they discovered me…you know, because I have droid parts attached to me. I'm not allowed to live on this world."

"Why don't you move to the binary planet, where you wouldn't be an illegal inhabitant?"

"It's impossible to get passage to Zyzywlvlv from Zylxx," the man answered shortly, climbing into the pilot seat. "It's always been that way. Hop in."

Kan crawled into the passenger seat as the cyborg powered up the engines and zoomed down the tunnel. "I discovered this labyrinth years ago. I used to be a historical documenter and amateur geologist at the Zylxxian Palace before my speeder crash. It was in an ancient text that I discovered the location of the fabled catacombs King Jjaelrn constructed to protect himself against the fury of the Pyronites, for though that race is a peaceful people, some of the tribes were enraged at the massacre and swore to kill him. And they did, once they found the entrance to the Zylxxian king's lair."

"How do you know about Pyronite history? They told me that the Zylxxians destroyed or hid all the documents related to slaughter…"

"No one can destroy the truth," the man answered. "Anyway, I fled here, knowing that I would not be protected by Zylxxian law once I became part droid. But the accident was so terrible that I had no other choice but to construct this bodysuit that you see me in now. These catacombs are amazingly complex ––– they spread on for kilometers ––– around the entire globe, in fact. Only parts of the labyrinth are unnavigable, because of minor underground volcanic eruptions."

"The Queen's advisor had a secret entrance to these tunnels on Hÿÿ," Kan said. "But I had no idea they were spread out this far."

"Oh, they are. King Jjaelrn wanted to be sure that the Pyronites would never find him. But nothing is impossible."

There was a brief lull in the conversation. Kan's mind began to turn back anxiously to the task that awaited him. But knowing that dwelling too much on the future would make him lose his focus, he decided to use the time he had collecting what information he could from his strange, cyborg companion.

"So, tell me about that place I was in back there, and who you are," Kan said. "In case you didn't know, I am Captain Enik of the Republican forces sent to this sector."

"I know," the man said. "I heard everything the Pyronite Jet told you because I was using an amplifier. I was too far away to give you any help, otherwise I would have been there helping you. I was on a private excursion to Mount Obsidi to take rock samples. You see, even though I am in exile, I still continue my work. My name is Kestrel Tal-on, creator of that secret medical facility back there.

"Having an acute interest in science, I was very elated to discover the hidden laboratories of King Jjaelrn. It was he who created the designs for the negaqua blaster, the weapon with the capability of killing Pyronites…the one Jet told you about. Jjaelrn also conducted other experiments that are better not to mention…I destroyed the information I found in the laboratories down here and started my own science facility. The medical droids you saw in that center were of my own creation. I also codeveloped that protective suit you were wearing when I found you. Where did you get it?"

"Klamin J'Oli, former advisor of Queen Hyrax," Kan replied. "He told me that he designed it himself."

"He did…mostly. I had accumulated a lot of data about _Actinius _in the past month, and I used the information I collected to create the designs for an anti-viral suit_,_" Kestrel said. "However, because of my appearance as a droid, I had to find a way to transfer my ideas to an official who could effectively use the designs to help Zylxxian citizens. Since the Queen's advisor had a tunnel entrance underneath his office, it was convenient for me to simply leave the blueprints on his desk, where he would be sure to find them."

"Do you know the Jedi that resides on this planet? Night Falcon?" Kan asked randomly, an idea forming in his head. According to Adriaan, Night Falcon had been an extraordinary Jedi. Surely he would know a way to save Zylxx. He looked at Kestrel hopefully.

The scientist was scratching his faceplate, a curious glint in his eyes. "Falcon? No, no…I have never heard anyone mention someone of that name. Why do you ask?"

Kan sighed, disappointed. "No reason."

So much for that idea. He definitely wouldn't have time to find the Jedi. He would have to come up with a plan by himself. He leaned his head against the headrest. "So, Kestrel, do you have any idea what's going on right now?"

"Pyronites trying to destroy the planet with meteor impacts and volcano explosions? Yes," Kestrel said, shaking his head sadly. "I'm afraid I'm stumped for ideas on how to stop them, Jedi. Are you strong enough to oppose them?"

"I think I'd be able to intercept the meteor shower," Kan said. "But I don't know what to do about the eruptions."

"We could try negaqua blasters," Kestrel reminded him. "The Nebula Guard left them in a secret vault in the palace. I think I might know where to find them."

Kan disagreed. "No, killing them is not the way to do it," he said, shuddering at the idea of using those cruel weapons.

"I have to admit, I'm not too comfortable about using them myself," Kestrel agreed. "I looked over the designs of the weapon, and believe me, it's not a good way to die. But what else can we do?"

"My Master is scheduled to return any day now," Kan said, counting on his fingers. "If she could get here in time, I'd bet that she could stop the Pyronites. She's an amazing Jedi."

Kestrel made a swift right turn down a side tunnel. "Tell me more about this Master of yours. She sounds interesting."

"She is," Kan said, remembering the day he had first met her. "There's certainly more to her than meets the eye."

"Really? What makes you say that? Is she a good Master?"

"Oh, yes. She's just really…secretive. She seems actually happy sometimes, but mostly, she's withdrawn into herself. She's a fighter, though. She can do almost anything."

"You seem to admire her."

"I do. She wasn't my first Master. She –––" Kan stopped, remembering Ruru.

_Jango swiveled his Westars at Ruru and fired._

"She what?"

Kan mentally blocked the picture from his mind. "I'd rather not talk about it."

"I understand." For a moment, they sped through the tunnels in silence. Kan rubbed his temples wearily, combing his mind for ideas on what do to once he got back to the capital.

"…You seemed disturbed while unconscious. You kept on calling out a woman's name whenever my droids administered the Aeris oil to your body to purify it from the virus."

Kan shook himself awake. "I did? What did I say?"

"You said something about an Adriaan abandoning you. Who is this Adriaan that makes you feel lost?"

He tried to shove himself into as tiny of a space as possible as he brooded. "No one."

"I think it's someone." Kestrel glanced at him sidelong as he guided the craft. The scientist had been horribly disfigured, and had to wear a mask on the bottom half of his face, which was what made his voice sound so metallic. "There have been rumors of a Republic Commander called Adriaan ell Talaan. Is she your Master?"

"Yes," Kan said reluctantly, not liking where the conversation was going.

"Interesting."

"How is that interesting?"

Kestrel didn't answer him. He was murmuring something to himself, as if Kan didn't exist. "How can the boy love someone that causes him so much suffering? What must it be like, to care so hopelessly for someone…"

"Adriaan does not cause me suffering," Kan said indignantly. "I was _delirious _when I said all that, all right?"

"Of course, of course," Kestrel said casually, patting Kan on the shoulder. "Just remember: sometimes the truth can be hidden in the unconscious mind."

Kan frowned. What did Kestrel mean? Did he think that Kan just didn't realize what Adriaan was doing to him? Kan was not stupid; he knew perfectly well what his Master was doing, and he was proud of her for it. She was a kind, generous person who was trying to help others fulfill their destinies, and it didn't matter that she was sacrificing her time with her own Apprentice. She had to do her duty as a Jedi Knight.

_But she's not telling me everything. She's keeping secrets from me. I can tell. What if she really isn't what she says she is? What if Kestrel is right?_

He had to believe in her. After all, she was his Master. He had to trust in her, as he had in his old Master.

But as he remembered everything that she had ever said, he began to feel afraid.

* * * * *

"Jahn Pal, if you were a GOOD old ZOOM agent that wanted to take over the planet by killing your GOOD Queen, where would you hide?" Aedan asked his companion.

"In a galactic HoloNet newscast," Jahn Pal mumbled.

"Get your scattered brains ––– if you have any ––– WICKEDLY together!" Aedan said sternly. "Seriously, where do you think they would hide?"

"Why would they hide? It's not like anyone's going to WICKEDLY barge into one of their secret meetings or anything," Kien said, coming up.

"WICKED thinking," Aedan complimented. "I knew I kept you around for some WICKED reason."

"I'm not the thinker. I'm the WICKED strategist," Kien pointed out.

"Same WICKED thing. I don't even know what a WICKED strategist is. You must've had to think to come up with that GOOD word."

"No, _you_ were the one who WICKEDLY gave me that title."

"Aedan Kenobi, discontinue babbling and be attentive for once." His twin's voice came from his wrist comlink. "I traced the communication and ascertained where it was impending from. You're literally not remote from the location."

"WICKEDLY give me the WICKED house number and WICKED street name," Aedan snapped.

"Twin Street, this level; habitation 3210 on the left side, approximately two blocks down. Contact me as soon as you've arrived at the terminus."

"Whatever, GOOD."

"No, pensively. I'll get in correspondence with the surplus of the collection and notify them where to advance. Don't progress into the domicile until I arrive. Understood?"

"No, your Masterliness." Aedan shut off the transmission and headed toward Twin Street, Kien and Jahn Pal following close behind. It took them about two minutes to find the house Andora had described. It was in decrepit condition, and looked like it hadn't been used in a long time. The door hung crookedly on its hinges, and the windows were boarded over and stared blankly out at them.

"Classy," Jahn Pal said brightly.

"Stupid," Aedan muttered.

Andre's group was the first one to come prancing up. "Hi-yah, WICKEDS," he said happily. "Nice day for crushing GOOD rebellions, no?"

"I wish I had never gotten out of my WICKED bed," Minir complained. "Aedan, don't you _ever _make me go with this chatterbox GOOD idiot ever again. I left my earplugs at the WICKED Temple, remember?"

"Oh, yeah, I WICKEDLY forgot," Aedan shrugged, winking at Andre. "Where's Sai'wer?"

"He's coming with WICKED Terry," Andre piped. "He didn't look too WICKED when we passed them."

Terry was soon seen approaching, dragging a chubby Sai'wer by the ear.

"Yo, whas-up, WICKED Terry?" the Wicked Club yelled.

"Oh hoh hoh, Jahn Pal, you say the most hilarious things," Sai'wer chuckled, slapping his fat thighs so that they jiggled. "Tell me another one of your funny jokes."

"Just WICKEDLY shut up!" Terry screamed. He half-carried Sai'wer the rest of the way and dumped the boy at Jahn Pal's feet. "Take the idiot out of my sight! He kept on talking to his GOOD cousin that wasn't WICKEDLY there the whole time," he explained to the others. "I never thought I'd GOODLY say this, but I was driven WICKEDLY crazy by it. Now, if you'll excuse me while I WICKEDLY decontaminate my hands…"

"We don't have time for that," Minir snapped. "I've been kept waiting by you unathletic GOOD morons for thirty seconds. It's time we WICKEDLY went inside and tore the guts out of…I mean _investigate _the ZOOM base."

"Pretty lady told us to wait," Jahn Pal reminded him.

"Well, Andora's just a big moron," Sai'wer said. "Now, are you going to listen to a moron, or are you going to listen to _me_?"

The Wicked Club stood silently for a moment, contemplating the choice between believing smart, GOOD Andora or stupid, GOOD Sai'wer. It didn't take long for them to decide.

"Let's GO! WICKED!" Aedan screamed and kicked the door open.

They toppled over each other into a room dimly lit by a single glowlamp. Immediately after their dramatic entrance, a tentacle lashed out and switched off the light, shrouding everything in darkness. The Wicked Club panicked at the sudden change of atmosphere.

"Boo hoo!" Sai'wer wailed. "I want my mommy!"

"I'm right here!" Minir screamed. "And I'm not your GOOD old mommy!"

"Oh no, does that mean we're _orphans?! _N-n-n-o-o-o!!!" Jahn Pal cried.

"I can't see my WICKED fleas! Fluffy the WICKED flea, where are you?" Kien yelled.

"Hey, what happened to the WICKED booger that was on my finger?" Andre asked.

"Oopsie…I thought you were giving the booger to me," Sai'wer said. "Sorry."

"QUIET!" Aedan shouted.

"_Cher-baknia d'yun," _a voice said.

"What was that?" Aedan yelled. "What did that voice GOODLY say, WICKED Minir?"

"How am _I _GOODLY supposed to know?" Minir asked crossly. "I'm not a GOOD old protocol droid."

"_Takni batrok." _A light flickered back on.

"Whoever you are, can you please stop speaking Basic?" Jahn Pal bawled. "We don't understand what you're saying."

"Zylxxians can't speak Basic, kid," a male, human voice answered from the shadows.

Aedan leaped toward the sound, activating his lightsaber in midair. "Surrender! The WICKEDS are placing your rebellion under arrest!"

"You are not authorized to arrest the entire planet," the man pointed out.

"GOOD point," Kien muttered.

"I wish the GOOD Andora were here," Minir hissed. "At least she's not completely brainless."

"SILENCE!"" Aedan thundered. "And turn on the lights, or you will find _this _WICKED light a little too close for WICKED comfort." He gestured with his lightsaber menacingly to make his point.

"Oh, I see," the man said in a much friendlier tone. "You, turn on the lights."

"Me?" Terry asked, looking around. Minir jabbed him with his elbow.

"No, you GOOD," he whispered. "He's talking to one of his GOOD cohorts."

"Then why didn't he call the GOOD old person by his name –––"

"He didn't because he has at least one particle of intelligence in his brain that told him not to give away the identity of his comrades," Minir screamed angrily.

The room was illuminated in a blinding flash of light as the glowlamps were turned back on. The Wicked Club blinked in the unaccustomed light.

"That is correct, young Jedi." A man swathed in a dark cloak said. He was surrounded by a large group of other beings; mostly Zylxxians and Twi'Leks. The Mak'Oki of the Zylxxians and the lekku of the Twi'Leks waved as they communicated in their own native languages. Obviously, they were surprised at the unexpected intrusion. One of the Zylxxians stood up and gestured wildly with it's Mak'Oki.

"_Maratruni xxx haru kiki!"_

"My thoughts exactly," the man said to his companion. "It is very curious to find that the great, tough Jedi Master intruders turned out to be seven half-witted babies. The Jedi must be spread thin indeed for them to send _children_ to deal with a planetary revolt."

"Oh, our Commander just got WICKEDLY killed trying to win back the asteroid you guys _sold _to the CIS," Andre piped up. "Commander Lee is sixteen, so she's not considered a baby anymore; she's just a stupid teenage GOOD, which in my opinion is less useful and WICKED than a clan of WICKED boys like us."

"Furthermore, in answer to your previously offensive and GOOD comment," Minir added, "the Jedi found your little 'revolt' so lame that they felt it only WICKEDLY necessary to send a few amateur Jedi like us."

"Fools," the rebel said. "The ZOOM does not have time to trifle with incapacitated beings such as you. You are all under arrest."

"Who gave _you _the GOOD authorization?" Terry asked indignantly, activating his lightsaber. "If you guys come one step nearer you'll get those tentacle-thingies WICKEDLY cut off faster than you can WICKEDLY scream 'Schoon Pedunki'"

"So touchy," the man remarked. "Do not resist, and it will go better for you. If you behave, we might even find time to give you all a fair trial."

"_Fair trial?! _GOOD trial!" Aedan screamed, lunging for the closest opponent. But the ZOOM had already anticipated the attack. Four Zylxxians immediately lashed out all their Mak'Oki toward Aedan's feet, sending him sprawling. The man quickly withdrew a stun baton and cracked it on Aedan's head.

"Hey! GOOD!" the Wicked Club protested.

"Back-stabbing GOODS! We've been trying to save your system the whole time, and you sold it to the GOOD enemy!" Andre yelled defiantly.

The man kicked Aedan's limp body away and picked up Andre by his hair. "It was the only thing we could do," he hissed into the boy's face. "You have no idea what our people have been through since the foundation of our civilization. You were not here to witness the cruel persecutions and unfair distribution of labor; you did not help us when our children cried in the streets for food that the Nebula gorged on in their disgustingly lavish palaces. You did not suffer with us when our evil Queen released that terrible virus upon her own people –––"

"She didn't release it. It was the CIS, the same people who GOODLY bought the Kiyp Belt from you," Andre said.

"Prove it," the ZOOM agent said.

"She was GOODLY infected with the virus herself."

"Then she was given justice for some of her crimes," the man cried. "Now it is time for us to give her the rest of her retribution."

"_Diya'yn! Diya'yn!" _the Zylxxians screamed.

"Death! Death!" the other beings yelled.

"You can't kill your WICKED Queen; that's against Galactic Law," Minir said.

"When we sold our system to the Separatists, we joined them," the man answered. "Therefore, we are not subjugated to Galactic law. It was the Queen's choice to stay loyal to her subjects, or to the Senate. She chose the latter, unfortunately for her. Now she must pay for her crime."

"No one is above WICKED law," Terry said. "And I don't understand how Hyrax staying WICKEDLY loyal to the Republic makes her a GOOD criminal."

"It does not matter what dead men ––– or I should say boys ––– think," the man answered, releasing Andre.

"You can't kill us, because number one, we're WICKED!" Kien shouted heroically.

"And number two, it's against the law to kill a Jedi," Minir added.

"Not on our homeworld; not in the eyes of ZOOM," the ZOOM agent said. "Because you have conspired with the traitorous Queen Hyrax, and are protectors of the galactic Senate, the Jedi are banned upon pain of death from this system."

"So does that mean we won't get a fair trial?" Sai'wer asked stupidly.

The ZOOM agent turned slightly and made a hand signal at his followers. The ZOOM rebels held a private conference in their unintelligible language for a few moments before a Twi'Lek signaled the man in the cloak to continue.

"We've decided not to kill you…yet," he told the Wicked Club. "We want to have plenty of time to do that, and we also would like to get some information out of you before you are all eliminated. Now, let me see; which one of you is the weakest, and most likely to break down under interrogation?" His hand disappeared into his hood as he scratched his chin, scrutinizing them with invisible eyes. The Wicked Club squirmed and looked nervously at their unconscious leader. They all knew who the man was going to pick: Jahn Pal or Sai'wer, the two "geniuses" who didn't know a bantha from a flower, and thought that lying meant laying down and taking a nap.

Suddenly, Minir did a very strange, un-Minir-like thing.

He stood up and began to dance, perfectly imitating the cousins' clumsy antics. Waving his gangly arms wildly, he opened his mouth and began to sing in a drunken voice.

"Now that we're WICKED…we never take a bath! Now that we're WICKED…we get an F in math!" he shrieked insanely. "Everyone, sing with me! Dance!" He threw himself on the cloaked man, who shook him off contemptuously. Minir fell on his face and groveled pathetically on the ground, drooling on the man's boots. "Hah hah hah! I'm stupid! You guys need to stop speaking Basic…I don't understand that language!"

"GOOD grief. Minir's finally gone insane!" Kien yelled, hiding behind Terry in terror.

"Maybe it's all on account of GOOD overexposure to GOODNESS!" Andre screamed. "Someone put him out of his misery!"

"Hah! Miserable wretch! We will find all of Hyrax's secrets from you!" the man yelled triumphantly, hauling Minir to his feet.

"He's not miserable," Jahn Pal argued.

"Yeah. I've never seen Minir more happy and intelligent in his life," Sai'wer said, agreeing with his cousin.

At that moment, nearly imperceptible to the naked eye, Minir shot the cousins his trademark "I'm-going-to-kill-you-stupid-morons" look. It was then that the other club members realized the ruse.

"Bantha-jerky and WICKEDNESS," Terry breathed. "I'd never thought I'd WICKEDLY say this, but Minir is a WICKED genius!"

"Shut up, GOOD!" Minir screamed, temporarily lapsing into his former tone of voice. He shot a nervous look at his captor and crossed his eyes. "Bleh, blah blah blah! Hah hah hah! Do you wanna dance?"

"We'll save the dancing on molten metal for later, when we have more time to plan the forms of torture we will inflict upon you," he replied. "First, I have to know ––– is this all of you?"

"Well, I might've accidently left my left arm or my front tooth at home…" Minir mumbled.

The ZOOM agent smacked his hand hard across Minir's mouth. "Insolent, I meant Jedi, not body parts! Is this all of the Jedi sent to this planet?"

"Oh, we are all here; there are three Jedi altogether," Minir said brightly.

"Stupid, there are seven in this room, not three," the man said. "I hope for your sake that you are not lying, boy, or you can be assured of a very terrible death."

"Minir can't lie," Terry said quickly. "Last time he GOODLY lied his brain WICKEDLY overloaded and he had to eat WICKED bantha burgers from a GOOD old tube for a year before he finally recovered."

Minir shot Terry a dirty look.

Makray dropped Minir and rubbed his hands together. "Excellent. I'll have to tell my boss that the objective was completed." He dialed in a number on his wrist comlink and spoke excitedly into the receiver. "General, Order 7 has been accomplished."

There was a chuckle on the other end. "Good. The gullible Jedi fell so easily into the trap."

"Do you mean to say that GOOD old 'Order 7' was to capture us?" Andre yelped.

"Yes." The man looked up briefly from the comlink. "We couldn't have you all protecting the Queen, so we decided to eliminate you as a factor by staging a CIS conference as the bait to lure you in. Pretty smart, isn't it? Now that we have all of you in our power, the Queen will be helpless against the might of her people."

"Nuh-uh, you didn't complete the objective," Jahn Pal said stupidly.

"Yeah," Sai'wer continued. "You forgot to kidnap Andora."

"GOOD!" the Wicked Club hissed, trying to silence the "geniuses"

"Who's Andora?" Minir asked, trying to cover up.

The ZOOM agent looked at the cousins with a renewed interest. "Do you mean to say that there is another Jedi on the loose?"

"Uh, _no, _GOOD, this is all of us WICKEDS," Andre said.

"They're all lying," Jahn Pal piped.

"There _is _another Jedi on the loose." Sai'wer batted his eyelashes. "A _pretty _Jedi."

"GOODS!" the Wicked Club yelled, diving for the tattletales.

"Secure them!" the cloaked humanoid said. The people of Zylxx shot forward and lashed Mak'Oki at the boys threateningly.

The members of the Wicked Club were not the type to back down in the face of danger. Shouting in anger at the cruel treatment they had received, the boys rushed the ZOOM and attacked, lightsabers withdrawn.

"Kill the GOODS! Make them croak!" Minir screamed mercilessly as he slashed a Twi'Lek's lekku off.

"No, GOOD, don't kill them!" Kien yelled. "That's not the WICKED Jedi way! We'll get expelled for killing these people!"

"Oh, WICKED point, WICKED Kien," Terry said. "Killing them quickly is not the WICKED way…we must make them suffer!"

"No, we must _kill_ the GOODS!" Minir argued.

"Remember those GOOD marks of combat we had to GOODLY memorize that one GOOD time?" Andre asked. "One of the marks was _Cho Mok ––– _maim opponent. It can sometimes be more WICKEDLY effective than killing."

"Pah!" Minir scoffed. "As for WICKED me, I prefer WICKED _Sai Tok, _which means cut GOODS in half and make them suffer for their GOODNESS."

"Just watch!"

Andre rushed for the nearest Zylxxian and cut off a protruding Mak'Oki. The alien screamed with rage and whacked Andre with the remaining three Mak'Oki. Andre fell to the ground and passed out as the Zylxxian withdrew a stun baton and zapped him.

"Ooh, pretty lights," Jahn Pal said, staring at the blue stun lasers.

"Numbskulls," Minir muttered. "GOODS. Told you _Sai Tok _is WICKEDER."

Several humans stepped forward and slapped a pair of stun cuffs on the remaining boys. Jahn Pal began to whimper.

"Oh, what is it _now?" _Minir demanded.

"Yeah, does your GOOD old diaper need changing?" Kien giggled.

"Makray, what's going on?" the man's comlink buzzed.

"We've run into a few difficulties…but they have been taken care of," the man called Makray said.

"Have you questioned the prisoners?"

"Yes…and it appears that we haven't captured all of them."

"What did you say? I can't hear with all the interference…"

"BOO HOO HOO!" Jahn Pal wailed.

"Will you make that infernal noise stop?" Makray shouted. "I'm trying to talk to my client!"

"Sai'wer, make your stupid GOOD cousin stop crying now!" Minir yelled.

Sai'wer smiled placidly. "What's the magic word…"

Minir gnashed his teeth viciously. "Don't you tell me what to GOODLY do…"

Sai'wer shrugged. "Keep crying, Jahn Pal; let the fury inside you be unleashed!" he told his cousin. Jahn Pal opened his mouth in an unearthly howl.

Makray snapped his fingers, and two Zylxxians started toward Minir with stun batons.

"All right! I'll GOODLY say it!" Minir shrieked. "Please Sai'wer! Please! PLEASE! I'm begging you! I'll be in your eternal debt, I'll be your WICKED slave for all eternity, I'll –––"

"That'll do for now; Jahn Pal, eat," Sai'wer said, shoving his stun cuffs in Jahn Pal's face. Jahn Pal immediately stopped crying and began to suck contentedly on the proffered binders.

"Gaa gaa goo goo," Jahn Pal murmured. "Good mommy."

"Enough of this disgusting spectacle," Makray said, cracking the stun baton across both the cousins' shoulders. The two half-wits immediately collapsed in a heap on the floor.

"I must say, I WICKEDLY agree with you," Minir said, looking at the two unconscious boys with disdain.

"Now, tell me or I will throw your leader into a volcano pit," Makray said. "Are there any other Jedi besides the said Andora running about?"

Andre, Terry, Kien and Minir glanced at each other. Now that the two hazardous cousins were out of the picture, Makray had no choice but to believe whatever the remaining WICKEDS said.

"It's just Andora," Minir said sullenly. "Commander Lee was reported dead, and Captain Enik has been missing for the past three days."

"You seven, go and find her," Makray directed his cohorts. Seven members of ZOOM nodded and ducked out of the room. "General, there is one Jedi we failed to capture, but we will soon find her."

"You'd better, Makray," the General hissed. "Unless you want _your _planet destroyed by the superweapon, instead of your twin. Alert all your people of the loose Jedi in the capital. I don't want this puny little Padawan ruining all our plans."

"Of course, General. What should I do with the prisoners?"

There was a brief pause on the other end. "Keep them under tight security. I will deal with them once I get back to the capital," he answered. "As for the Queen…you may proceed as planned, but there will be a slight alteration in the deal."

"What do you mean?"

"We cannot have Hyrax live; she has the support of the Jedi and the Republic,and would potentially be a threat to the ZOOM government."

"So are you suggesting that we kill her?" Makray's voice shook. "But General Epi'do, we are a peace-keeping civilization. It is a great crime to outright murder our duly elected leader; the person responsible for such a crime suffers excruciating torment before finally being beheaded –––"

"The law does not exist once the leader is overthrown, idiot," Epi'do said. "Besides, your race is not against killing. Do you not remember the famous assassination of the Zyzywlvlian conspirator, King Mak, who established the binary planet treaty…"

"That traitorous king was legally eliminated through a subtle assassination. Poison in his wine-cup. He was known to be deathly allergic to the Et-aka root, and he so it was his fault that he drank the proffered cup of Et-aka juice the night of his birthday celebration. You see, it is not Zylxxian custom to kill anyone in a violent, shocking, and crude manner, such as strangling or mobbing. We tend to use gentler methods of killing our enemies, such as poisoning or suffocating…"

"I did not ask for a Zylxxian customs lesson," Epi'do snapped. "I didn't spend seven years in the Zylxxian Academy of Cultural Superiority for nothing. Besides, if it is the publicity that you are worried about, I assure you, the Senate will not find solid ground to fight you on. My special agent has traced Captain Enik's whereabouts for the past three days, and he has brought me evidence that Enik has affiliated with members of the POOR movement. Such an affiliation is a direct violation of the Jedi Code _and_ galactic law, because it is illegal for military officers to conspire with hostile parties."

"But aren't _we _a hostile rebel party?" Makray asked.

"You won't be if you take control of your planetary government. If the Queen and the Jedi are eliminated, there will be no witnesses, and they will be forced to believe _our _story and the false data of the Queen's criminal acts against Syleeto. In fact, since you are now under Separatist protection, you should not care what the Senate thinks. Therefore, you are authorized to kill her…but it must be done _immediately, _or our protection will be withdrawn, and your planet's corruption will be exposed to the Republic. And I would not want that to happen, if I were you."

"Oh, of course, General Epi'do; we are at your command," Makray said, visibly nervous. "Any other orders?"

"I have just transferred the coordinates that my agent gave me of the POOR hideout to your database. You have Negaqua blasters. The Pyronites must be exterminated immediately. They are planning to mount a full-scale, spontaneous series of volcanic eruptions, and though that seems impossible, they might be able to do it. We must never find out if they can. Is that order clear?"

"It will be executed with pleasure," Makray answered. "We will await the destruction of our binary planet with as much patience as we can muster."

"Don't push me, slime," Epi'do answered. "My secret agent will be arriving with Captain Enik at the capital soon, so your mission objective _must _be accomplished by then."

"But won't the Jedi kill us when he finds out what we did?"

"He can't; my secret agent will prevent that from becoming an issue."

"Then why must the Queen be dead before he arrives –––"

"Leave the important details to me! Keep those puny younglings under heavy restraint until my arrival, and above all _find that missing Jedi!"_

The transmission ended abruptly. Makray retreated farther into the room and began issuing out orders to the rest of his group. Terry began to crawl forward to catch what he was saying, when several ZOOM agents separated from the others and headed toward the boys, stun batons raised.

"You know, WICKED Minir, I'm beginning to wish that we had waited for Andora instead," Kien said just as a stun baton was aimed at his head.

Minir was the last person to be knocked out. As he watched his remaining comrades lapse into unconsciousness, he counted them off, one by one, in his head.

_WICKED Aedan. GOOD._

_ WICKED Andre. GOOD._

_ GOOD old Jahn Pal and Sai'wer…the only thing I wish is that they were dead, instead of just unconscious._

_ WICKED Kien. GOOD._

_ WICKED Terry. GOOD._

_ Now there's no more WICKEDS to save the world, except me,and I'm just one big jerk, _he thought. _Kay Lee is dead, the clones are all dead…Adriaan is a GOODER and ran off with those freak aliens…Andora is free, but she's just one little GOOD against a whole ton of GOODS, and she will be captured soon. And WICKED Na'thin is…_

Suddenly he remembered. Na'thin! He had been the one assigned to protect the GOOD old Queen! Surely there was WICKED hope now! Na'thin was an idiot, but he could do the job WICKEDLY if asked. Yes, things did not look so terribly GOOD now…

But Na'thin was just one tiny little Apprentice against a whole planet. Would he be WICKED enough to save the system from destruction?


	21. The Wrath of the Wicked Warrior

chapter 21

"The WICKED warrior sat at the breakfast table with a poise and grace only one as WICKED as he could possibly accomplish. Some say he was so WICKED his enemies fell at his feet in awe as they groveled in the presence of such WICKEDNESS.

"I am a poor man," the GOOD person he had saved said apologetically. "The only reward I can offer you is to give you honor at your funeral.

"The WICKED warrior did not speak for several moments, and the poor GOOD feared that perhaps he had offended the WICKED Master. But that was not quite true ––– well, it was, sort of ––– but that was only partly the reason why he did not speak. For you see, the WICKED warrior possessed such WICKEDNESS that every action he performed was precisely and WICKEDLY WICKED. In other words, he did not speak because he had stuffed his mouth too full with food, and he didn't open his mouth because he dreaded the thought of losing even one particle of sustenance that had been captured in his WICKED maw. So, after he had chewed his food thoroughly and WICKEDLY, he spoke.

"You cannot pay a WICKED with honor because they possess so much of it already that it is WICKEDLY impossible to give them any more," the WICKED warrior answered. "Furthermore, you cannot pay respects at a WICKED's funeral because _WICKEDS never die._

"At that moment the poor man revealed his GOOD true identity as the GOOD arch-nemesis of the WICKED warrior. He rushed to attack the WICKED, but the warrior was too WICKEDLY fast with his lightning-fast reflexes for one so GOOD.

"The WICKED warrior _stood _and raised one mightily WICKED fist and in an instant the power released by one so WICKED caused the GOOD to disintegrate in petrified GOODNESS from overexposure to such unfathomed WICKEDNESS…"

_Thunk. Thump. Thump. _

_ C'yun Diya Maraya! C'yun Diya Maraya! C'yun Diya Maraya!_

"Master Wicked Jedi…er, Apprentice, sir," Hyrax appeared in the doorway, looking very distressed. "I am sorry to interrupt…whatever you were doing, but my people, I fear, are trying to break into the palace."

_Snap! Crash! _The sound of durasteel doors being forced open rattled in Na'thin's ears like an ion blast.

"You mean they _have _GOODLY broken in," Na'thin amended.

_C'yun Diya Maraya! C'yun Diya Maraya!_

Hyrax's head-tails whipped haphazardly around her neck as she bolted into the room and leaped toward Na'thin. "You must alert your friends…wait, oh no, what if they've been slaughtered by the mob?" She clung to Na'thin desperately. "Whatever you do, don't let them get in! If they kill me, the whole system will collapse! You must stop this!"

"Aw, they're not going to make you GOODLY croak." Na'thin shrugged her off, chuckling. "That's against WICKED galactic law, according to GOOD old Mace Windu. He's a member of the GOOD old Jedi Council, so he knows what he's talking about."

"No," Hyrax said.

"What? So Mace Windu was lying? Well, I guess I shouldn't be too GOODLY surprised since he's GOOD –––"

"No, I mean that my people don't care about galactic law. Listen, do you not hear what they are chanting?"

_C'yun Diya Maraya! C'yun Diya Maraya!_

"I don't speak that GOOD old gibberish," Na'thin said indignantly. "What the heck are they GOODLY raving about, anyway? Are they asking for those chocolates I, uh…_borrowed _from the palace kitchens a few weeks ago?"

"They are shouting, 'kill the Queen; down with monarchy' Does that satisfy you, my skeptical Jedi?" Hyrax practically screamed.

The sound of more doors breaking down assaulted their ears. "Um…yeah," Na'thin said.

"What are you going to do, then?" Hyrax looked relieved.

Na'thin suddenly found the situation very funny. He threw himself down on the floor, opened his mouth, and started to laugh insanely.

This random outburst of excessive emotion obviously disturbed his charge, for the Queen hauled him to his feet and began to shake him. "Master Jedi, are you entirely stable? Do you need medical assistance? What are you going to do?"

"Hah hah…hoh hoh…nothing, duh," Na'thin gasped, holding his sides.

"Nothing?!" Her pink skin turned ash-white with fear, but she stood her ground, which Na'thin had to admit was admirable for someone who was eight years old and whose life was being threatened.

"Yeah, this palace is pretty WICKED for being constructed by GOODS," Na'thin said, giving the heavy durasteel doors an affectionate whack. "Too bad you don't have blast doors…but this'll WICKEDLY do. Besides, these people aren't the fully trained battle droid legions that I'm used to fighting, so they can't possibly WICKEDLY demolish this building and get to us…"

In answer, Hyrax punched the surveillance monitor on her desk, bringing up a holovideo that showed a battalion of droids marching down the corridor. As Na'thin watched, twenty droidekas wheeled past the formation, followed by a squad of super battle droids. Na'thin knew that the droids carried firepower capable of ripping through the thin durasteel doors.

"What exactly is your definition of 'battle droids'?" Hyrax asked.

Na'thin stuck his hands in his pockets, trying to control his shaking. _When a WICKED warrior shakes, it is because he is elated at the sight of a WICKED feast spread before him in WICKED honor for his honorable WICKEDNESS…_

"Still no problem," Na'thin said hoarsely. "I've dealt with these GOOD clankers before…nothing but walking piles of junk metal. Don't GOODLY fret, Princess Epi'do; you have a WICKED here to protect you…"

"I'm a Queen," Hyrax told him, "and my name is Hyrax, not Epi'do."

"Whatever. WICKEDLY close enough." Na'thin began punching in the emergency code number for Aedan's comlink. "Aedan? WICKED WICKED Truly WICKED et cetera! Copy?"

He got no answer. Frustrated, he threw his comlink on the ground in a well-executed display of anger and crushed it underneath his boot. "Stupid GOOD Aedan why do you have a comlink if you never WICKEDLY use it…"

"Na'thin," Hyrax said gently. "You know that Aedan is supposed to be on patrol right now. If he is alive, he wouldn't have let this mob infiltrate the palace…"

Na'thin screamed and rammed his fist into the wall. Aedan, dead? It was inconceivable! Yet it was a fact that he had to deal with. But if Aedan was dead…

_If Aedan is dead, than WICKED is just a GOOD figment of our imagination! And if WICKEDS really don't never die…_

_ …Then I might die._

He felt as though the world around him was crumbling. Everything he knew…a lie?

The droids were coming closer. He could hear the clanking of their feet as they shuffled down the hall, closer and closer to him. The chanting of the Zylxxians grew louder.

_C'yun Diya Maraya! C'yun Diya Maraya!_

Kill the Queen. Kill the Queen.

_"Whatever you do, don't let those silly GOODS kill the Queen!" Aedan had ordered._

_ "Gotcha. So, you want an extra-WICKEDLY-large mug of Jawa Juice with that bucket of cheese fries?"_

He had treated the whole thing like a joke before. Maybe it _had _been a joke…but it wasn't now. He wasn't WICKED. _Nothing_ was WICKED. Not even the word 'wicked' was WICKED…

_C'yun Diya Maraya! C'yun Diya Maraya!_

As he reached for his lightsaber, his heart inside him quaked. _Get a hold of yourself! _He told himself sternly. He forced his muscles to relax as the sound of the mob came closer.

_Man, it sucks not being WICKED, _he thought ruefully. _I used to have so many advantages…now I have almost none._

There was the dreaded sound of laser cannons firing from the other side of the door. The entrance shook as it took the blasts. They would be in here any minute…

_Let the Force flow through you, Na'thin!_

He planted his feet firmly on the floor in a horse stance, stretching his arms toward the door.

_ Yoda said that size matters not. Does that mean strength matters not, too? Can I, a weakling, hold the door closed against a mob of angry people and a legion of droids?_

_ I can't, but I know the Force can._

He felt his shoulders being jarred as several more blasts shook the doors, but he strained harder against the attack. Yes; the Force was holding them back! There was hope that the Queen would live, after all.

Though the Force was strong enough to resist the attack, the door was not. It couldn't take the pressure applied from both sides. Na'thin watched helplessly as it disintegrated into rubble before his eyes, exposing the front line of Zylxxians mingled with battle droids.

He dropped his hold on the Force and withdrew his lightsaber. It was time to fight.

The droids immediately commenced firing at Na'thin and the Queen, but Na'thin was an agile, quick boy, and was able to deflect the blaster bolts harmlessly away.

"Get behind me, Princess!" Na'thin yelled as the droidekas wheeled in.

"No! If I this is my last hour as Queen, I will not spend it hiding behind an insane little boy's back!" the Queen said with dignity. Before Na'thin could stop her, she sprinted across the room with surprising agility and accessed a hidden compartment inside her desk. She turned around, aimed her sleek sporting blaster at the closest battle droid, and fired.

"WICKED!" Na'thin exclaimed as the droid's head fell off and its body crumpled to the floor. "That was some shot, WICKED Princess!"

"Beginner's luck," Hyrax replied, turning and firing at another droid. A Zylxxian charged toward her, a vibro-ax aimed at her head. Hyrax rotated her body so that the pointed end of the axe went into the desk instead. Then she ducked under her attacker's legs and bolted away like a pink lightning bolt, shooting down another droid on her way.

Na'thin found himself awestruck at the seemingly sedentary Queen's performance. This eight-year-old puppet ruler had the agility and reflexes of an assassin. Astonished, he watched as she dove behind a chair and used it as cover as she routinely stood up and fired, quickly crouching down behind the chair again so that she wouldn't be hit by the return blasts.

"Where'd you learn to do that?" Na'thin asked as he hacked another droid down and cut an electrostaff out of a Zylxxian's hands at the same time_._

"My grandfather lived during hard times on Ryloth, my homeworld," she answered. "He taught me all he knew…he always said that I was destined for a life of greatness and adventure."

Na'thin felt a pang of sympathy rip through him as he thought of Hyrax's short life. She had practically lived in the trash heaps on Zylxx, until last year, when she began her debut as a figurehead ruler. Now her career was at an end, and perhaps her life, as well.

_Not if I can help it, _Na'thin gritted his teeth as he continued to deflect the perpetual blaster fire. _ They're not going to end this young girl's life…unless it's over my dead body._

_ The WICKED Warrior never quits, even when the world seemed hopelessly dark…for the dark can reveal the light that shines through the world…_

_ If I am to die, let me die making my WICKED King proud._

"The WICKED warrior was undaunted by the sight of so many GOOD foes," Na'thin shouted as he knocked two droids down with a straddle kick. He dropped to the floor and sliced a Zylxxian between the legs. "He was so fearfully filled with WICKEDNESS that there was no room left for any petty emotions such as fear, for though a WICKED warrior could be slain, a WICKED warrior would always go out in a blaze of triumphant, WICKED glory."

He felt his heart soar to the sound of his voice as he narrated the story of the WICKED warrior. It was an epic of Aedan's own creation, and it was everyone's favorite bedtime story. Aedan had written it to inspire WICKEDNESS in his cohorts. Well, it was achieving its purpose. With a renewed sense of courage sparking within him, he strode slowly and majestically toward the line of droids, lightsaber held away from his body.

"Na'thin, what are you doing?" Hyrax yelled. But Na'thin was beyond hearing by now. His time assigned to the galaxy as he knew it was over. He so engrossed with the tale of the WICKED hero that he himself became part of the story.

"The WICKED warrior was so powerful that the front line of enemies were forced to bow down in homage to his WICKEDNESS!" he screamed as he cleaved his way through the battle line. Some of the Zylxxians had stopped attacking, confused at Na'thin's strange oration. Instead, the ringed themselves around him, waiting to see what would happen. Only the mindless droids were unaffected, and they continued firing as heavily as they had before.

But Na'thin was a WICKED warrior, and therefore, he was not afraid. Even the sight of twelve droidekas wheeling toward him did not make him budge…and those droids were his greatest fear.

"Even the materialization of his nightmares were no match for the WICKEDNESS of the WICKED warrior," he said, deactivating his lightsaber and standing unarmed before them. The droidekas unfolded and turned on their blast shields, but Na'thin still did not move. The Zylxxians all gasped at his audacity, and Hyrax screamed in terror as the droidekas began to fire.

"I say again: the WICKED warrior could not be defeated by his greatest enemies!" Na'thin shouted, throwing both arms forward, calling on the Force to help him. He grinned as the droidekas were sent rolling like bowling balls into the legion of battle droids, knocking out at least ten droids in the process. But a battalion of droids was about fifty-seven times that many. There were at least five hundred and sixty more to take out, with the Zylxxians besides. It was over. Na'thin reactivated his lightsaber and began cutting down droids twice as fast as he had before, but the droids kept on coming in, wave after wave. Soon, he was encased by a wall of enemies, and Hyrax was out of sight.

"Though surrounded by thousands of foes, the WICKED warrior never quits!" Na'thin screamed. "Die, you insolent GOODS; grovel in the presence of my WICKEDNESS!"

"_C'yun Diya Maraya un Jidi! _Kill the Queen and the Jedi!" the mob screamed, rushing forward. Na'thin warded off a blow aimed for his neck, but found an electrojabber whacked against his legs. He fell to the floor, dazed.

"_Diya'yn! Diya'yn! _Death! Death!" they shrieked, towering over him.

_WICKEDS never die…_Na'thin felt some feeling return back to his legs. He struggled slowly to his feet.

"No! No! Don't kill him; that is not the one you want!" Hyrax screamed, breaking through the mass of people. "It's me you want. Take me! I am your Queen!"

"You were never our Queen!" a human yelled recklessly. "A real Queen wouldn't have let her people starve in ditches, or allow her people to be enslaved by droids. A true Queen would have never dared to infect her own planet with a deadly virus!"

"If you were truly enslaved by the CIS, why are you working for them now?" Hyrax asked, gesturing at the droids.

"They are our rulers now," the people said. "Epi'do made a contract with Count Dooku. The Count of Syleeto will not allow us to go hungry, or let the Nebula persecute the poor."

"But Epi'do is the leader of the Nebula!" Hyrax pointed out.

"Epi'do _posed _as the leader of the Nebula," they answered. "He was one of us; he was a human, born in the slums of the city. He spent years at the Zylxxian Academy, inching his way up to the seat of power, and all to save us from the evils of sovereignty."

"My people, you forget; I, too, was born in the slums, and had to watch my family suffer from lack of food every single wretched day of my life because of the evil rules our society has based itself upon," Hyrax said gently. "You were the same people that shouted my name on the day of my coronation. What have I done to make you hate me?"

"You are friends of the barbarian tribes; you have conspired with the Pyronites and the Zyzywlvlvians to kill us all!" they shouted. "Such a crime deserves death!"

"So be it," their Queen answered. "But I beg you, do not take the life of my loyal Jedi comrade, who has done all in his power to save me."

"The Jedi are enemies of the CIS, our benefactors. He must die with you."

Na'thin rose to his feet. "If she will die, it will be over my dead body! WICKED!"

He leaped up over the heads of his enemies, slicing and cutting this way and that with his lightsaber. He had never felt the Force flow so easily through him; he had never felt so alive…and it was his moment of death.

_Aedan, I'm sorry, WICKED. I've failed you. _

The droids began to fire again as the crowd surged foward. Na'thin was pushed back against the wall as he tried to protect Hyrax from the brunt of the attack. With his free hand, he began to Force-push the droids away, but they kept on being replaced by new ones pouring in from the doorway.

A super battle droid came charging up, laser cannon pointing toward Na'thin's head. The boy rolled away from the blast, carrying Hyrax with him.

_KABOOM!_

Na'thin looked up and got a handful of debris in his eyes as the wall was blasted apart, exposing an adjoining palace room. Knowing that there were several exits out of the palace, Na'thin dragged Hyrax toward the hole and threw her over. "Run, Princess ––– RUN! AH!"

He screamed in pain as a blast ripped into his leg. He staggered, but was able to find support against the wall. "Just go!"

Hyrax took one long look at him. "No," she said, clambering back over the wall. Na'thin raised a hand and gently Force-pushed her back.

"You heard me ––– GO!"

"If I am to die, than I will not die running," the Queen answered. "I will die in a blaze of glory, like my grandfather foretold. Do not stand in the way of my destiny."

Saying this, she leaped forward…right in the line of fire. Na'thin yelled and, summoning his last ounce of strength, jumped in front of her and deflected the blasts away. The power of the attack sent him to his knees.

"Jedi, run!" Hyrax shouted, firing a shot at a battle droid before rolling away.

_I should run, like she's telling me to. That's what Aedan would want me to do; the number one WICKED rule is survival._

_ "But the rule also states that WICKEDS always survive, no matter what, because they always do their duty."_

_ The WICKED warrior never fled, even from an army of thousands…_

_ The WICKED warrior never feared fighting alone._

His eyes focused on a dark red puddle that was pooling all over the floor. Realizing that he was kneeling in his own blood and gore, he stuck his left hand to his tunic to find the wound. He winced. A blast had ripped open some of his internal organs. If he moved, there was no telling whether they'd fall out completely or not.

But he had to move. To save Hyrax.

The droids continued to fire, mostly at Na'thin; the Zylxxians were the ones concentrating on Hyrax. The Zylxxians feared Na'thin's lightsaber, while the droids did not. The Zylxxians also hated the Queen, and the droids did not care about what they shot at. They were only doing what they were programmed to do, which was to shoot until an enemy blasted them into a useless pile of scrap metal.

He stuck his hand deep into his body to keep his organs inside. An acute pain ripped through is body, but he inhaled deeply and forced himself to forget the torment. He was the WICKED warrior, and these were the last moments of his life. He was going to live them doing what his King had told him to do.

Time seemed to come to a standstill around him, but he was not affected by it. The Force was his ally, and the Force would not abandon him in his hours of death.

He slowly stood in the midst of his foes, his lightsaber held in a defensive position. The blasterfire kept coming at him, and he feared that some of it would be directed at Hyrax, too. He began to move closer to the Queen to protect her.

"Na'thin!" He was dimly aware of a vibro-axe heading toward Hyrax's head. Screaming in fury, he launched himself toward the lethal blade and dislodged it from the assassin's hand. Na'thin, however, exerted too much force in his attack, and the momentum sent him sprawling against the desk. He rolled over and blocked a knife just microseconds before it was driven into his neck. Instead, it was lodged down to the hilt in the rich ebony wood of the desk. He stood up and kept spinning his lightsaber in a chopping motion, breaking up any weapon that came near him.

Suddenly his lightsaber was blasted out of his hand by a battle droid. He watched, in the clarity of slow motion, as the hilt spun in the air and broke into a million particles, quenching his hope for survival. He and the Queen stared, open-mouthed, at what had once been their sole means of protection.

"G-G-G-G-G-G-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-D-D-D-D-D!!!!!" he shrieked, clenching his fists and charging toward the droid responsible for the destruction of his lightsaber. The droid fired again but missed, and Na'thin came up and ripped the droid's head off its body with his bare hands, running off to destroy the next droid.

"You may have destroyed my lightsaber, but you won't destroy me!" Na'thin yelled recklessly, leaping into the midst of his enemies and pushed them all down with the aid of the Force. But they only stood up and continued firing.

It was no use. Exhausted from loss of blood, Na'thin was brought to his knees by the blasts. A fog rolled over his vision, so that he could no longer see anything but the red streaks of fire coming toward him.

"_Diya'yn! Diya'yn! _DEATH! DEATH!" the people of Zylxx screamed as he slowly lay down in his own blood. But he could no longer hear their bloodthirsty shouts. Pain had deafened his ears to all sound, except one voice which kept saying the same thing over and over in his head.

_The WICKED warrior did not fear death…he did not fear death…_

Suffering tore at his insides, and the pain spread to the rest of his body as the blasterfire kept coming. He was no longer able to block any of it, so he just lay there and let each blast penetrate his body.

"Na'thin!" He sensed rather than saw the Queen running toward him, willing to take the blasterfire instead of him. Her soft cry of agony penetrated even the deafness of his own ears…and he felt the vibration in the earth as she fell beside him. He had failed in his quest. He had not protected the Queen, as he had promised. And now he was dying.

"_C'yun Diya Maraya! C'yun Diya Maraya!" _the crowd screamed, but their clamor lacked the enthusiasm of before. They had not expected Na'thin and the Queen to fight so hard for their survival; they had expected the murder to be an easy task. But because of Na'thin, they had had to suffer for their crime.

_Aedan, I _have _done my duty. I did not run when the Queen was in danger; I stayed by her side, like you commanded me to…even in the hour of her death. And I am going to die with her, too, because I did my WICKED duty. I'm sorry that you'll have to find another WICKED snack-snatcher…_

Suddenly his eyes came back into focus, and he realized that everyone had stopped firing. But why? He wasn't dead yet. He looked up only to see the faces of his enemies surrounding him, looking at him, waiting for him…


	22. Surrounded by Foes

chapter 22

Kan did not like what the Force was warning him about the capital. Everything was too quiet. Not the serene, peaceful quiet of a contented neighborhood, but an eery, foreboding silence that smelled of danger. Kan did not like what he felt.

"…Perhaps we can find a diplomatic solution that will appease the Pyronites, since firepower is useless against them." Kestrel had been babbling on ever since they had left the speeder in the underground tunnels and continued through the streets on foot. Kan had asked Kestrel where they were going, but the cyborg had only patted him on the back and said that he would see. Kan wondered why it had to be a secret.

"I already tried negotiating with them," Kan said shortly. "It didn't work."

"Ah, but you are not experienced in the art of diplomacy, my young Jedi," Kestrel said.

"How do you know how to be diplomatic? You're a scientist, not a politician."

"You pick up a few things at the Zylxxian palace. Anyway, I had to attend the Zylxxian Academy to become a citizen, and you have to learn how to debate there."

"I'm sorry, but I don't think any amount of negotiating will change the Pyronites' minds," Kan said.

"Well, then, do you have any alternative ideas?"

"I'm working on it," Kan protested. "Patience."

"We don't have time for fabled Jedi patience," Kestrel said. "You need to act now; there is no time for thinking. I think your Master would act in this situation."

"My Master would obey her Jedi training, thank you very much," Kan said sharply.

"But still, you have a little more than an hour to think of a plan and put it into action. We must decide now before it's too late –––"

"I'll ask Aedan." Kan immediately began punching in the emergency code for Aedan's comlink. "He's always got crazy ideas in his head. Aedan? Aedan! Do you copy? Aedan!" He redialed the code number, but all he got was static. "What the heck. Why isn't he answering his comlink? He's supposed to be on high alert!"

"Perhaps he is busy with the ZOOM investigation," Kestrel suggested.

Kan shook his head. "No. He's supposed to be protecting the Queen. Speaking of which, I'll go ask her for some advice."

"Ah, that won't be necessary," Kestrel answered.

Kan stopped in mid-stride. "What do you mean?"

"I don't think we should get Hyrax involved in this," Kestrel said smoothly. "She is a capable Queen, but if we give her this news of the Pyronites trying to destruct Zylxx, she might not be able to take the stress…if you know what I mean."

"You're right, Kestrel," Kan said, resuming his walk and wishing that he was as insightful as his comrade. "We'll just have to keep thinking of a plan ourselves. But where are we going?"

"You've already asked that question twice. You are not very patient for a Jedi."

"I'm still learning, and I don't particularly like the idea of following a complete stranger to an unknown destination that could very well end up being a trap."

"You might be right," Kestrel said amiably. "Very well, I will tell you. We are going to the ZOOM base."

Kan looked around. "But isn't this the street that leads the way to the palace? I can't imagine they would have a rebel base so close to the Queen."

"So observant. Actually, currently the ZOOM base _is _the palace."

Kan stopped suddenly in the middle of the road. His instincts had been right, after all. He _was _walking into a trap. And this scientist was the one leading him into it.

"Is something the matter, Kan?" Kestrel turned, looking almost harmless despite his formidable half-droid, half-human appearance. But Kan could now see the gleam of malice in his eyes.

Kan activated his lightsaber. "Yes, something is very wrong here. What has happened to Queen Hyrax?"

"There is no need to get excited," Kestrel said. "You could've seen this coming from a kilometer off, if only you had cared to look."

"Where is the Queen? Where is Aedan?" Kan started toward Kestrel threateningly.

"The Queen of Syleeto is nonexistent," Kestrel said. "The sovereign government has been replaced by a ZOOM Parliament. This movement was authorized by the planet's new leader, General Epi'do of the CIS. And I believe the little Padawans you are speaking about have been secured in the original ZOOM hideout. Unlike Hyrax, however, they have been treated well, so there is no need to worry."

_Hyrax, dead. Epi'do, controlling Syleeto. _Kan's guess had been correct. The Zylxxians hadn't been overrun by a Separatist invasion; they had _allowed _the CIS to take control of their system, so that the CIS could perfect the Kataelectrum-fueled weapon of mass-destruction, and so eliminate Zylxx's main rival, Zyzywlvlv.

"You're an agent of ZOOM sent to capture me, aren't you?" he asked Kestrel.

Kestrel shrugged. "Not quite. I do not work _for _these alien scum, who are unworthy to be considered equals to the Separatists. I am just a simple CIS agent, using this ZOOM corporation as a tool for my own use, to be discarded when it has lost its edge."

"So what are you going to do about the Pyronites trying to destroy your precious 'tool'?"

Kestrel shrugged. "I really don't care that those lava freaks are trying to destroy their world; it certainly doesn't affect our plans. If Zylxx is destroyed by volcanic upheavals and meteor showers, that will only bring more plastoid components to the surface, which is the only reason why we haven't eliminated this desolate planet from the spectrum in the first place."

"What about the Zyzywlvlv? If the Seps aren't really giving Zylxx their protection, are they not going to destroy the binary planet, too?"

"We never promised protection from cataclysms," Kestrel said. "Epi'do struck a deal that only stated that in return for CIS control of the system, the Separatists would destroy Zyzywlvlv. That is all; what happens to Zylxx itself is no concern of ours."

"So what are you going to do with us Jedi?" Kan asked scathingly.

Kestrel smiled. "I was hired by the Count to bring Jedi to him. Dead or alive, it doesn't really matter. Some protege of Dooku's has a thirst for Jedi blood, they say, and the Count wants to keep his new pet supplied with Jedi warriors for target practice. If you cooperate, you will survive longer. That is all I can guarantee for you."

"Who is this…pet of the Count's?" Kan asked. He decided that he wasn't going to attack the scientist…not until he had gotten some important CIS information out of him. He had noticed that Kestrel could be very informative and friendly as long as Kan asked the right questions.

Kestrel shrugged. "You will soon learn, young Kan. Now, I will make a deal with you. I will guarantee a longer life for you if you will answer a few simple, harmless questions that are completely unrelated to vital Republic strategies. Do we have a deal?"

Though his instincts warned him to stay away, Kan decided to play along for a while. Besides, he was curious to know what sort of information the CIS scientist would want. "Sure. What do you want to know?"

"As I mentioned before, you said some very interesting things about your Master when you were knocked out," Kestrel said, leaning casually against the wall. "When I asked you about it, you were very evasive and even got a little defensive about it. I find this highly irregular and worth further observation. You are a very unusual Jedi."

"Thanks," Kan said dryly. "But what's so interesting about what I said about my Master?"

"When you were asleep, you mentioned something about a young woman called Adriaan ell Talaan," the scientist said. "At first, I thought this was some girlfriend you were talking about, but then I remembered that Jedi don't fall in love. Anyway, it didn't sound like a lover's conversation to me. As you continued in this imaginary discussion with her, I was able to decipher that she was your Master. Tell me, how long has she been your Master?"

An answer like that seemed harmless, so Kan said, "About two months."

"Really? And how did you meet her…or is that sort of information too personal?"

Kan shrugged. "I just met her at a room in the Temple one day. She was on her way to Geonosis with the other Jedi."

"How old is she?"

Kan thought for a minute. What did this scientist want? Perhaps he was trying to make a datafile of all the known Jedi in the galaxy, but that didn't seem to be the case with the sort of questions he was asking. Thinking that perhaps Kestrel was only trying to slowly work his way up to the important questions, Kan continued to give answers. "She told me that she was eighteen."

Kestrel looked at him for so long that his gaze seemed to bore holes in Kan's head. "Something is very unusual about how you worded your answer. 'She _told _me' not 'She _is _eighteen' It is as if you don't believe her."

"Well, she does look sort of young," Kan admitted.

"Yes, that does happen sometimes." Kestrel scratched his head. "How exactly does she look, Kan?"

"Blond, shoulder-length hair, blue eyes, fair skin with slight freckling around the nose area. Usually wears black; pirate tattoo on right wrist and palm," Kan said automatically, knowing that what she looked like didn't matter to Kestrel. This puny, cyborg scientist couldn't possibly be a threat to a strong warrior like his Master.

"Tattoo on right palm and wrist? Is it like this?" Kestrel pulled out a knife that had a weird black design curving down the red hilt.

Kan started. "Yeah."

"Hmm. Interesting. Now, has your Master ever mentioned a possible affiliation with a dark Jedi called Ra'hal Espera?"

"Why should you want to know?" Kan said, his patience running out. "I've never even heard of that name. Why are you asking these questions about my Master, anyway?"

"Personal interest," Kestrel answered. "I've always had a fascination for Jedi."

"That doesn't explain anything," Kan said angrily. "I don't even know why I answered your stupid questions, anyway, because I'm _not _going to be made a CIS bargaining chip, or a target practice for a stupid Sep General."

"I warned you to cooperate if you wanted to survive longer –––"

"If I cooperate with the CIS, all I'm going to get is a lightsaber stuck into my back," Kan said. "Okay, that's enough from you; now's _my_ turn to ask questions."

"As you wish."

"When will the CIS superweapon be ready?"

"It does not matter if I tell you," Kestrel said. "Because I myself do not know."

"Do the Pyronites truly have the capability to destroy Zylxx?"

"That is for you to find out."

"You aren't answering my questions," Kan protested.

"That is because this information can be used against me," Kestrel said. "Kan, have you ever considered that perhaps you are fighting on the wrong side?"

Kan folded his arms. "No. I do not even need to think about my choice. I know what is right."

Kestrel shrugged. "There are several different point of views to 'right' Kan. Evil and good can be found anywhere. The Count could strike a profitable deal with you, if you would only consider…"

"The CIS made a deal with this planet; they promised friendship to Zylxx," Kan said, shaking his head. "And this is the way they repay their clients. Dealing with evil will only serve me evil, so no thanks."

"But you are already dealing with an evil," Kestrel said softly. "That evil is your Master."

_My Master. _Kan took a step forward. "What did you say?"

"Those questions I asked you…they were not just out of random curiosity," he said. "I have had cause to believe that your Master has had affiliations with a sith cult. A dark Jedi was employed by Count Dooku several years ago, and she disappeared after betraying him. So by listening to your delirious musings, and the answers you gave me, I think that perhaps this Adriaan is yet another dark Jedi that knows the one dark-Force user we've been looking for –––"

"My Master is not a dark Jedi! She serves the Jedi Order, not traitorous people like the sith!" Kan screamed, lunging toward the scientist. The anger he had first felt when his Master Ruru had died returned to him, and he felt an overwhelming desire to strike down this vile creature before him. Shouting in fury, he bore his lightsaber down at Kestrel's head.

Suddenly he felt the peculiar sensation of being blocked by an invisible obstacle. He struggled to move his arm that had frozen in mid-swing, but found he could not. Enraged, he began to fight back against the imaginary thing that was stopping him. What was holding him back?

Kestrel looked at him mockingly. "Well, are you going to get on with killing me?"

"_I hate you, I hate you!" _Kan wanted to scream, but remembered his Jedi training.

_A Jedi must show no hatred, or fear, or any emotion of that kind._

"Who are you?" Kan yelled.

The cyborg man shook his head. "If only you knew," he said softly. "You would be granted immeasurable power."

Summoning all his strength, Kan threw himself backwards and was sent sprawling on his back. But at least he was free from the strange prison.

"You are strong in the Force, Kan. It is obvious that your mysterious Master taught you well," Kestrel said, stepping forward. "But she didn't teach you everything she knows!"

He held out his hands, and lightning exploded from his fingertips. Kan cried out in agony as the blue flames licked all over his body.

"Master!" he yelled, and that was the last thing he remembered.

* * * * *

He came back into consciousness when a spasm of pain ripped through his gut. "WICKED Na'thin!" he screamed, jerking his head upward. He yelped in pain as his head whacked against something hard with a dull _clang, _and when he struggled to put his arms up to his aching cranium to soothe it, he realized where he was.

Chained up inside a cage.

"Minir! Kien! Andre! Terry! GOOD geniuses!" he called out, but all he got was silence in return.

He looked around at his surroundings. He was in the same room he had recklessly run into with his band of loyal WICKEDS, except that now, he was imprisoned by durasteel bars, and the room was empty. It was also very dark, so it took his eyes awhile to adjust to the gloomy lighting.

_Ow. GOOD. _He could feel a lump growing on the back of his head ––– a result of the nasty whack the ZOOM agent had given him with the stun baton. It was giving him a headache.

"GOOD old Andora! This is all your fault!" Aedan yelled, even though he knew that she couldn't hear him. "If you had only been WICKEDLY faster in getting here, I would have never been GOODLY hit with a GOOD stun baton and stuck in a GOOD cage like a GOOD old rabid rancor!"

"U-u-u-g-g-g-h-h-h…" A feeble groan came from somewhere around him. Aedan's head whipped wildly around as he searched for the GOOD who had made the cry of pain.

"Andora? If that's you I'm going to make you GOODLY croak."

"I'm not Andora, unfortunately," the voice said. "Andora was still free when I was last conscious. Is that you, WICKED King?"

Aedan crawled in the direction of the voice. "Yeah. Are you Minir? Methinks I recognize your WICKEDLY jolly, humorous voice. Please, tell a WICKED joke to make me WICKEDLY laugh."

"Aedan, I was never your GOOD old comedian," Minir said crossly. "And I never GOODLY will. Hire Andre and Kien to be your WICKED jesters, but not me."

"They have other WICKED jobs to do," Aedan informed his grumpy clown. "Anyway, I think you make me laugh the WICKEDEST."

"This is no time for GOOD flattery," Minir said impatiently. "We've got to WICKEDLY get out of here now!"

"Why?" Aedan asked, laying down on the durasteel floor and crossing his legs. "These cells are so WICKEDLY comfortable. And I wonder what they're gonna WICKEDLY feed us?"

"Probably nothing," Minir snapped. "They're planning to kill us. Didn't you know that? Furthermore, I want to leave because these cells are _not _WICKEDLY comfortable ––– they wouldn't be WICKED enough for a womp rat ––– and I feel like a rabid rancor trapped in here."

"Is that all? I sense that you are pining for my GOOD sister, Andora," Aedan teased.

"Pining? For _her? _More like WICKEDLY pining to set her GOOD old butt on fire," Minir snorted. "She never showed up here. I'm thinking she smelled something GOOD and took off. Anyway, it's not her I'm worried about. It's Na'thin."

"Eh?" Aedan snapped up immediately, whacking his head again on the roof of his cage. "Ow. My trusted WICKED snack-snatcher? He'll be fine; he got the GOOD job, remember? Guarding that silly pink GOOD Queen should be GOODLY easier than preventing Jahn Pal and Sai'wer from consuming toxic waste."

"Your logic is WICKED, for once," Minir said. "However, you forgot one GOOD little detail; the ZOOM rebellion has been ordered to _kill _the silly pink Queen!"

"ZOOM equals GOODNESS," Aedan scoffed. "Those GOODS don't know the barrel from the butt end of a WICKED blaster even when it's WICKEDLY firing in their faces. Even a whole planet of ZOOM would be no match for my WICKED Na'thin. You GOODLY underestimate the little guy."

"Perhaps," Minir conceded. "But I heard GOOD old Makray ––– the idiot that zapped your brain with a stun baton ––– he was talking to the CIS general, and he's sent an entire legion of battle droids to get rid of Hyrax and any remaining WICKED Jedi on the planet that haven't been GOODLY taken care of."

"Bantha droppings! GOODS!" Aedan shrieked, hurtling himself at the bars of his prison. "They can't kill Na'thin! He's the only WICKED who could snatch snacks for me!" He stifled a sob. Na'thin, facing six thousand droids and an entire rebellion, alone? Even a WICKED like Aedan would have trouble with that.

"Maybe he'll sense them GOODLY coming and escape," Kien said, rousing.

"Yeah, being a WICKED con artist, he'll know when to WICKEDLY run," Andre piped from somewhere out of the darkness.

"Na'thin was never a WICKED hero, anyway," Terry said. "He's best at running."

"Glad to see you WICKEDLY with us, guys," Aedan said to them. He shook his head. "But no, Na'thin wouldn't WICKEDLY run because gave him a WICKEDLY direct order to protect the Queen at all costs."

"The cost will be poor little Na'thin's life," a drowsy voice murmured.

"How much does Na'thin cost?" another sleepy voice asked.

"Oh, great, the morons are functioning again," Minir muttered. "Too GOOD their brains never wake up with the rest of their fat, misshapen bodies."

"Na'thin won't croak," Andre said brightly. "He's WICKED!"

"Anyway, he'll get help from the sometimes WICKED Kan and Kay Lee, and maybe even the GOOD Andora," Aedan said hopefully.

"Negative," Minir replied. "GOODLY negative. GOOD Epi'do sent a CIS agent that captured GOOD old Captain Enik, and Miss Commander-high-and-mighty has been blown up in her ship with the rest of the GOOD clones trying to take the stupid, dumb, GOOD asteroid!"

Aedan closed his eyes. "Sometimes it's better to not get out of WICKED bed in the morning," he murmured.

"It's even GOODER than that, WICKED WICKED Truly WICKED et cetera," Andre said. "The Pyronites are attempting to start massive, WICKED volcanic explosions all over the globe, and the Zylxxians aren't really part of the WICKED republic they sold themselves to the GOOD CIS, and the ZOOM is going to the mountains to kill all the WICKED Pyronite ex-slaves, and they're taking over the WICKED palace and killing everyone inside it, and Andora is still free, so the GOODNESS will only keep on spreading."

"WICKED womp rats! Minir, we've got to find a WICKED way to get out of this place!" Aedan exclaimed, as if the idea had just been thought of.

Minir groaned inaudibly. "You think?"

"Anyone have any WICKED ideas?" Terry asked. "WICKED Minir?"

"Why is everyone always asking poor WICKED me? I'm not the WICKED strategist; Kien is," Minir retorted.

"We ask you because you're so stupid," Jahn Pal said.

"He means WICKED and intelligent," Kien said quickly. "Anyway, I don't have any ideas."

"You never have any WICKED ideas," Minir snapped. "And your job is to be thinking of them!"

"Hey, give poor WICKED Kien a break," Andre said.

"Yeah, he's come up with some WICKED ideas!" Terry said enthusiastically.

"Like what?" Minir asked sarcastically. "How to keep fleas off his body?"

"Well, yeah!" Sai'wer said. "See, he's come up with the best ideas. He's so smart."

"Maybe _he _should have been the WICKED genius," Minir remarked.

"The problem is, we've already taken that job!" Jahn Pal said happily.

The rest of the Wicked Club, excluding the cousins, coughed loudly.

"If the strategist is out of WICKED brain juice, why don't we ask the other WICKED thinkers in the club?" Minir asked mockingly. "Well, oxy-morons? Do you have any WICKED ideas you wish to enlighten us with?"

"We're thinking of ideas?" Jahn Pal asked.

"What are those, anyway?" Sai'wer queried. "Some exotic type of rich, fattening dessert?"

"That reminds me…" Jahn Pal began.

"Let me guess, you're hungry!" Minir exclaimed sarcastically.

"No, you misanthropic jerk," Jahn Pal said. "Speaking of fattening desserts reminded me of a plan I thought up for getting out of these jungle gyms."

"Well, these aren't WICKED jungle gyms," Aedan pointed out. "Nevertheless, you may WICKEDLY go on."

"The plan of getting out of these jungle gyms –––"

"Cages."

"––– Segac, is…"

"Did you just say, 'cages' backwards?"

"It makes him sound more intelligent," Sai'wer said in a loud whisper. "Let the genius continue, please."

"The plan –––"

"The plan –––" Sai'wer giggled. "Eht nalp…"

"The plan…wait, does it have something to do with what my blood type is?" Jahn Pal asked.

"No, it has something to do with 'G-n-i-p-a-c-s-e'"

"You mean WICKEDLY 'Escaping'!" Minir screamed. "Get on with it! We can't just sit here and rot listening to two morons while our WICKED comrade is facing off an entire legion of GOOD droids!"

"He's right, Andre; shame on you for continually interrupting," Sai'wer said.

"Huh? But I didn't GOODLY say anything!" Andre protested.

"SILENCE, GOOD!" Aedan thundered. "Jahn Pal, you have five seconds to answer before I physically rip you limb from limb and roast you over an open volcano pit!"

"Patience, my young Apprentice," Jahn Pal said. "I have everything under control. The plan is…"

"Yes?" Terry breathed.

"YES?!" Aedan shouted.

"You take it from here, cousin," Jahn Pal told Sai'wer.

"The plan from getting out of these caged jungle gyms is _escaping_!" Sai'wer finished proudly.

There was ten seconds of total silence. Then, with a scream of uncontrolled rage, Aedan smote the bars of his cage as hard as he could.

"G-G-G-G-G-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-D-D-D-D-D!!!!!"

There was a terrible sound of metal being ripped apart and crumpled up like a wad of paper, and the next thing Aedan knew, the bars of his cage were separated far enough for him to squeeze through. Astonished at his display of strength, he clambered through the gap.

"Well, that's one WICKED way to do it," Terry commented.

"Let's go save our WICKED friend!" Andre screamed.

"Jahn Pal, the plan worked!" Sai'wer shouted. "We're geniuses!"

Jahn Pal beamed and puffed up his chest with pride.

* * * * *

Being evil was too easy, Kestrel had to admit. Having once been good, he knew which path was more profitable; the path of darkness, of course. Being virtuous only made you weak, he reasoned. That was why his victim had succumbed so easily to Force Lightning. The Jedi Padawan's body had been soft, and unaccustomed to pain. Kestrel's Apprentice had been of hardier stock, but that was because she had been unable to resist the pull of the dark side. So why even bother being good if you were going to get killed? You had a better chance of living if you were evil and heartless enough to kill someone before they were strong enough to kill you.

Another good thing about being evil was that no one expected Kestrel to have no other motives other than serving his Master. Eventually, Kestrel planned on defeating Lord Sidious and the delicate little Count Dooku, but that could take some time, considering the Sith Lord could not find enough time to train him. Not only that, the accident that had left Kestrel encased in a cyborg body hampered his sith powers, so he would need an Apprentice to help him in his conquest. His protege was learning fast, but it would take time before he was mature enough to take on a sith like Dooku.

But Kestrel had plenty of time.

After securing the Padawan in a ray shield prison, Kestrel moved off a little ways and dialed the private code scramble for headquarters. An image of the dark lord of the sith shimmered into view.

"Yes, my private agent? What is it?" Sidious said, his voice a low, chilling whisper that sent shivers even down Kestrel's tough, half-droid spine.

Kestrel knelt in homage to his Master. "My lord, the two rebellion factions are proceeding as planned. The ZOOM have successfully captured the Jedi younglings, and have taken control of the palace. The Pyronites are also beginning the volcanic eruptions."

"Good. Do the Zylxxians know anything of the volcanic eruptions?"

"They do, my lord," Kestrel said, bowing his head. "Most of them have gone into the mountains to stop the POOR, armed with the negaqua blasters. But the Pyronites are too many and too strong now for the weapons to harm them. They are natural Force-adepts; they draw their energy from the earth, so nothing can stop them now."

"You have done well, protege. My Apprentice, Dooku, awaits you at the rendezvous point."

"I am on my way, lord. Should I take ell Talaan's Apprentice with me?" Kestrel asked.

"No. There is too much light inside his heart to be of much use. He must die on this planet."

"It will be done, Lord," Kestrel said, indifferent to the fate of the young boy. After all, it was not Kestrel's life that was in peril, so why worry?

"Do you have any news of the dark Jedi Ra'hal?"

"I have sent my protege after a suspected friend of Ra'hal's," Kestrel said. "It won't be long before we have news of her."

"Your Apprentice must hurry," Sidious urged. "This Ra'hal must become one of us…and soon. She would make a great asset. But I fear for your Padawan. There is a chance that he might be turned away from the dark side after being sent away from your side."

"That has been taken care of, my lord," Kestrel answered. "He doesn't know it, but I injected him with the mind-controlling drug, Kentol, before he was sent on this dangerous mission. I have complete access to his mind, and can make him do what I want at a given time during the night. I have a time window to operate in, so I can't control him all the time. But so far, it is working."

"Do not keep me waiting, bird of prey. It would be unfortunate if you fail to bring me Ra'hal a second time." The hologram faded.

A slight noise from behind caused Kestrel to turn. His prisoner was rousing, looking at him feebly.

"You –––" Kan didn't have the strength to say anything more.

Kestrel laughed as the earth shook from beneath them. Zylxx's time was up. "Farewell, Apprentice of Lightning in the Storm," he said, bowing mockingly. "It's a pity you aren't worth the interest of my Master, or you might've lived to see another day. But at least you will get your heart's desire, for today, you will go to join your true Master in the Force."

Kestrel leaped into his starship and lifted up into space, drowning out the screams of the Jedi Padawan as the engines roared. He plugged in the coordinates of the rendezvous point and blasted into hyperspace.

"Better watch out, Ra'hal; I know you're still alive, and I'm going to find you," he said grimly.


	23. Death of a World

chapter 23

_"Do not keep me waiting, bird of prey. It would be unfortunate if you fail to bring me Ra'hal a second time."_

Ruru suddenly appeared in his vision, dressed in white and walking slowly toward hiim with his characteristic lumbering grace."Kan, you need to wake up and get out of here. You are the Republic's only hope."

"Kan! WICK-Kan! Up, WICKED, up up up!" Ruru said in a much different tone of voice.

"Wha –––?" Kan sat up feebly and rubbed his eyes. "Master?"

"He's up, WICKEDS!" Kien shrieked, doing a cartwheel in excitement.

"Great, can we get off this GOOD old planet now?" Minir begged as another cataclysmic blast shook the ground beneath them.

"What's wrong, GOOD old Minir? Don't you want to stay and watch the fireworks?" Kien joked.

Minir shuddered. "I'd rather not."

"Minir! Kien! What are you accomplishing, just idling here in the vicinity like protuberances on timber?" A sharp little voice asked sternly.

"Oh great, Andora's still alive," Minir muttered. "Can my day get any worse?"

"It will if you don't hurry and set me free," Kan said, finally coming to his senses.

"Sanction me, Captain Enik," Andora said, flipping the ray shield power to the off setting. Another rumble dumped Kan out of his prison at Andora's feet.

"That's better; now, can you tell me what's going on here?" Kan asked, rubbing his temples to help clear his mind. "Where's the rest of the Wicked Club?"

Andora shrugged. "Regrettably, that intelligence is unprocurable to me, as I have just escaped from a dilemma of my own."

"You mean you were GOODLY captured? Us, too," Kien said.

"That, without prevarication, does not stupefy me," Andora said. "You should have tarried for me prior to going forth into an inexplicable edifice."

"Well, you never WICKEDLY showed up, so it's not _our_ fault," Minir said grumpily.

"It was no culpability of my own, either," Andora said. "I was on my way to the rendezvous location, when I was ambushed by a contingent of automatons and incarcerated in a vacant hovel. I was able to discombobulate the sentinels, however, and elude recapture. I meandered here in pursuit of an expedient transport."

"Stop making excuses," Minir snapped. "Let's just go!"

He started off in the general direction of the capital, but Kan grabbed his shoulder. "Minir, what about Aedan and the rest? Did they…" he stopped, afraid to say the dreaded word.

"Croak? Of course not, GOOD!" Minir said. "They're at the capital right now, trying to locate Na'thin."

"Oh, dear! We stranded him to preserve the potentate, and I apprehended a Separatist communication stipulating the rebellious factions to terminate the Queen!" Andora exclaimed.

"What? When was that order given?" Kan said, whirling on Andora.

"It must've been two hours ago, but conceivably we can apprehend them punctually –––"

"We don't have time! The volcanoes are already exploding, and the meteor impact is due in a few minutes!" Kan protested. "Anyway, if the droids have infested the city, Aedan couldn't possibly be alive now –––"

"Of course, Captain," Andora said. "You are our duly elected officer, since Commander Lee perished in the incursion of Cÿÿ. We will do as you bid."

"But _I_ will not," Minir said. " Aedan is my King, and if it weren't for him, I wouldn't have ever known of the powers of being WICKED. I'm going after him."

Kan, Kien, and Andora looked at each other. So much weighed in the balance.

"Wait, Minir," Kan said. "We're coming with you."

"You chose WICKEDLY," Minir said. "Because I'm the one that has the WICKED transport."

He pointed off toward a clone dropship, which was parked a few short meters away.

The four Jedi Padawans raced toward their transport.

* * * * *

"Na'thin!" Aedan shrieked for the two hundredth time. "WICKED Na'thin!"

His comlink signaled, and he flipped it open impatiently. "Na'thin? Na'thin is that you? Oh…Andre ––– what the GOOD are you GOODLY calling me for?! You should be busy looking for WICKED Na'thin!"

"WICKED sir, chill; I've called because I'm at the palace," Andre said. "It's being guarded by a squad of droids. It also looks like the gates had been WICKEDLY forced open. Seems like the CIS attacked here."

"Hang on; the rest of us will be WICKEDLY arriving shortly," Aedan said. "I don't care what the GOOD old palace is being occupied by. We're going WICKEDLY right in, no matter what. Na'thin's got to be hiding in there somewhere."

Five minutes later, Aedan was standing in front of the palace gates. Andre had been right; one gate looked like it had been ripped completely off its hinges. A squad of super battle droids patrolled the outer courtyard.

Aedan inhaled deeply, then charged forward.

"Halt! Your identity does not compute!" A droid said. Aedan answered it by slicing through its control panel with his lightsaber as he charged past, hacking off the legs of two others. He did a spin hook kick into another, sending it flying into the others. He leaped up and did a criss-cross motion with his lightsaber, cutting them all into scrap metal.

Normally, Aedan would pause to admire his WICKED handiwork, but he didn't have time for that today. He felt that he didn't even have enough time to wait for his band; that was how hurried and terrified he felt. The Force surged within him painfully, and he feared the GOODEST had happened. He stepped over the smoking piles of droids and bolted into the palace before enemy sensors could get a clear reading on him.

He raced through the hallways, noting the charred patches and scars on the ceilings and walls ––– blasterfire from droids. Remnants of CIS infantry littered the floor, and Aedan came to a standstill and did a brief calculation. Yes, at least fifty droids had been destroyed in this hall. Had Na'thin done all this himself?

_Na'thin, please be so WICKED you did not croak, _Aedan begged. _If I find you, you're going to be WICKEDLY promoted to third-in-command._

He followed the signs of the battle all the way up two flights of stairs until it opened out into the Queen's private office. It must have been the room Na'thin and Hyrax had fled to during the attack.

Hyrax's office looked like it had taken a much heavier beating than the hall. Aedan stepped over the destroyed door and waded through the shin-high sea of droid limbs. There were so many, and his WICKED snack snatcher had done it all himself. It looked like a scene that had popped out of Aedan's WICKED Warrior bedtime stories.

_The WICKED Warrior was too strong for even an entire legion of WICKED-GOODS ––– people that had WICKED survival skills but fought for a GOOD cause. _

A throbbing resounded inside his head, and he unconsciously touched the stump of his right arm, now replaced by a droid limb. It was beginning to become a habit of his ––– touching his dismembered arm whenever he felt lonely or sad. This planet was making a GOOD out of him, that was certain. A break from anti-GOOD activities would be WICKED; he would show Heatrian and Andre his menagerie of animals at the Temple, maybe even give them a formal WICKED initiation ceremony like he had always promised; find a few more WICKEDS to add to the club, annoy Minir by forcing him to tell jokes, make Kien develop prank tactics, have Na'thin snatch him a couple of snacks from the Temple kitchens…

_I have to find WICKED Na'thin first._

He waded through the mass of droid bodies, his stomach wretching at the stench of burning rubble. He sank his hands into the mass, digging around for any sign of Na'thin.

"WICKED Na'thin? Where are you?!" he screamed in desperation. He had remembered feeling like this on the CIS command ship, when he had thought that his twin had died. He had never even really cared for Andora, and yet, he had felt pain when he believed her to be dead. If Na'thin was dead, would his heart be able to take it?

There was a small tremor in the Force, and Aedan leaped wildly with joy when his hands came in contact with a bright fuzz of orange-red hair, stained brown with dust. He dug through the droids until he uncovered his friend. "WICKED Na'thin! Wake up!"

Na'thin's thin body felt chilly at Aedan's touch. As Aedan's hands carefully moved over Na'thin's body, he discovered countless blasterfire wounds, but the worst was a severe hit that had ripped straight through the snack snatcher's internal organs. Even though Aedan knew almost nothing about wounds, he did know that a hole like that was fatal, even to a WICKED.

His gaze went watery. "Na'thin, oh Na'thin, I'm so WICKEDLY sorry. Please, wake up; there is so much I need to say to you."

Na'thin eyelids fluttered slightly, and Aedan bent his head closer as the boy's white lips moved. "Sometimes it is…better that some things…aren't said," Na'thin gasped with an effort.

"Yes, you are WICKEDLY right," Aedan said. "You need WICKED medical treatment immediately, my WICKED third-in-command. Can you stand?"

"I…failed," Na'thin whispered. "I…didn't protect…her…"

"Hyrax?" Aedan's blood went cold at the thought of what had happened to her. "Who did this? Where are the GOODS?"

"ZOOM rebels," Na'thin murmured. "They're all gone now…to kill the Pyronites. They had a legion of droids here sent to kill us…they left me for dead, but Hyrax…" the boy shuddered and fell silent.

Aedan began to lift Na'thin to his feet. "Come, I'll carry you, WICKED. Let's get out of this GOOD place."

But Na'thin shoved him away and fell back. "No ––– wounds are too deep. I…cut down so many…but there were hundreds more pouring in every second…I ––– I had to do my duty."

"Yes, I know, and I am most WICKEDLY proud of you for it," Aedan said, but tears sprang into his eyes as he said it. Na'thin, dying?

"You…were very wrong about…wickeds being invincible, and I'm sorry that it…it isn't true," Na'thin said sadly. "Either I'm not truly wicked, or wicked people aren't invincible. There's no other way to put it, Aedan, so don't argue."

"No, you are WICKED," Aedan said. "I always forget to mention that WICKEDS die in blaze of glory, like you. So it is a WICKED honor for you to die like this…so be proud, because I am…I am proud of you."

Na'thin closed his eyes. "The wicked warrior does not exist. I'm sorry."

Aedan did not get angry at the mistreatment of his favorite. He was feeling too sad inside to feel anything else. "Na'thin, the WICKED Warrior _does _exist; he's within you," he said.

Na'thin smiled, but did not open his eyes or speak.

"Na'thin? Na'thin?!"

Aedan threw himself on his friend's limp body and began to sob, because he knew then that his Wicked Snack Snatcher was dead.

That was how the others found him, lying amongst battle droid parts, his head on Na'thin's chest, crying silently. No one had ever seen him cry, and it scared them. It was several moments before Minir summoned enough guts to walk over and touch Aedan on the shoulder.

"Go. Away." The Wicked King's voice shook, but it still conveyed enough authority for Minir to step back.

Suddenly, the palace floor shifted beneath them, and everyone was thrown into a heap on the floor. Kan sat up and lunged for the wall to give him some support as the palace continued to rock and sway. "Aedan! We're all really sad about Na'thin's death, but this is no place to grieve for him! Come on, we've got to get to our transport before the volcanoes destroy it! We can take Na'thin's body with us."

Aedan looked up at Kan, unshed tears sparkling in his blue eyes. "He croaked, WICK-Kan," he said dully. "My WICKED man just croaked."

"Does that mean that Na'thin was GOOD?" Terry asked innocently.

Aedan leaped to his feet and grabbed his second-in-command by the collar. "Na'thin _GOOD_?! You're the GOOD!" he screamed. "Even the WICKEDEST of the WICKED could not have possibly survived, so Na'thin cannot be considered a GOOD! No! He is one of the WICKEDEST! He is a WICKED warrior!" He slumped against the wall, out of breath.

"Come, Aedan," Andora said, placing her hand lightly on his shoulder. "Let's go. We have a job to do."

Aedan drew one ragged sigh. "All right."

Kan gently lifted Na'thin's lifeless body over his shoulder and followed the others as they scurried out the door. As they ran outside toward their transport, he looked toward the mountain range. A red glare was clearly illuminating Mount Kilara's snowy peaks, staining it to the shade of blood. As Kan watched, a tower of lava pierced the heavens in its deadly brightness and came down upon the mountaintop. More volcanic material kept bombarding the mountain until its top was blown completely off, exposing, for the first time, the black cones of the Pyronite volcanoes.

The destruction of Zylxx had begun.

Andre looked up at the palace walls and let out a chilling scream of pure terror that made everyone stop in their tracks and turn to stare at him.

He covered his face with his hands. "Don't look; it's too GOOD," he shrieked.

Of course, everyone looked all the same. But they all quickly lowered their gazes when they realized what they were looking at.

"They nailed Hyrax's head over the gate…barbarians," Andora muttered, shuddering.

"Poor kid," Kan said, his heart in his mouth as he turned away and ran in the opposite direction. The rest followed, glad to be rid of the terrible sight.

When Kan happened to glance up at the sky, the mesmerizing atmospheric colors were being choked by black clouds of hot ash. Knowing that once this deadly blanket of volcanic material descended on the capital, they were as good as dead, Kan lengthened his strides and urged his companions to do the same.

"We're almost there! Hurry!" he yelled.

Suddenly, a falling object ripped through the duracrete right by his feet. He stepped back, startled at the appearance of the ball of ice and rock. "The meteor shower is beginning," he yelled as fiery bolts began to fall out of the sky. The first one to land had been small, but there was no telling how big the next one would be. "Run!"

They covered their heads and bolted the last twenty meters to their ship, which was a small Corellian cargo cruiser, suited to flying in trade routes. Kan set the body carefully on a sleep couch in the hold and shrouded it with his cape. The ship lurched as Kan staggered into the cockpit, where Aedan and Terry had taken over the pilot and copilot controls.

"Whoo! Come on, WICKEDS; this is our ticket out of here!" Aedan yelled, but Kan thought that his shout lacked the usual enthusiasm.

"Whoo! WICK-A-WICK-A-WICK-A-WICK-A-WICK-A-WICKED!" the others screamed.

The ship plummeted into space, taking a glancing hit on the port side from a passing meteorite. But there was no critical damage, and they blasted off the dying planet safely.

"Where to, WICKED?" Aedan asked Kan.

"Cÿÿ," Kan answered shortly, plotting the hyperspace jump.

"But, WICKED," Andre protested. "We have no WICKED troops to help us, remember? Commander Lee and the troops were reported to be all killed in the assault."

"We promised Adriaan that we would retake Cÿÿ, so we're going to do it," Kan said grimly.

"Captain Enik! Commander ell Talaan instructed you to _attempt _to conquer the asteroid," Andora protested.

"I don't care!" Kan yelled. "I want to prove to her that I can handle a mission by myself!"

"This isn't about glory, Kan," Andora said. "We must sustain ourselves to fight another day; committing suicide is not a worthy strategy to corroborate that you can operate a solo mission."

"Anyway, how can you call it a GOOD solo mission when you have all of WICKED us?" Terry piped, putting an arm on Kan's shoulder.

"I guess not," Kan said, forcing a smile. "Well, if everyone feels so strongly about this, we'll plot a course to Coruscant, instead."

He bent over the console and prepped the hyperdrive, plugging in the coordinates for Coruscant. He looked up. "Okay, punch it."

Aedan punched it, but nothing happened.

Kien opened up the utility hatch and tinkered around inside it for awhile. "No WICKED!" he shouted. "The hyperdrive is critically damaged! It's GOODLY impossible to make the jump to lightspeed?"

They all exchanged glances.

"Well, where are we going to go, now?" Terry asked.


	24. Republic Victory

chapter 24

"The sensors indicate that the Republic fleet was last spotted inside the Kiyp Belt," Shakir was saying. "I'm not picking them up on the comm, though."

That wasn't good news. If the troops had all mysteriously disappeared inside enemy territory, that usually meant that they had all been slaughtered. Klamin had been right. Kay Lee _was _in trouble.

"We're entering the Kiyp Belt now, Commander," Skipp said. "But the sensors are picking up some foreign objects floating in the belt."

That could be her Republic fleet! "Bring the fleet closer to these objects," she said. "I have an idea they might be…"

Klamin suddenly clapped a hand over her mouth. He was staring out the window with an odd expression on his face. Adriaan turned away from Skipp to take a look at what it was that made Klamin so eerily quiet.

"What the GOOD?" Heatrian muttered.

Adriaan closed her eyes. It was the remains of her Republic fleet.

"Pulverized," Klamin murmured, dazed. "She was pulverized."

It took Adriaan a second to figure out who he was talking about. It was not until the familiar wedge-shape of a navy blue Jedi starfighter floated past the screen that she realized what had happened.

Kay Lee had been killed in the space battle, too.

"My WICKED King, what has happened to you?" Heatrian wailed.

Kay, Aedan, Andora, Terry, Na'thin, Kien, Minir, Andre, Jahn Pal, Sai'wer…Kan. All dead. Her Padawan Clan had been completely destroyed before it had even been born.

_Everyone will forsake you in the end. They will leave you in a cold, hard universe…alone. _"Scramble all the fighters," she snapped.

Skipp looked startled. "But, sir…"

"That's an order, Skipp," Adriaan said. "Unless you have any better ideas, this is the one I'm going with."

"Scramble the fighters?! Adriaan, are you nuts?" Klamin whirled around and grabbed her arm. "You can't think of attacking Cÿÿ; look what it did to your fleet!"

"I don't care. This is my duty, this is what I came back for," Adriaan said.

"Is it your duty to die? I don't think so." He yanked on her arm so that she had to turn and look him in the face. He placed his hands on her shoulders. "Don't throw your life away."

"Why not? It's not like anyone would care," Adriaan said, shrugging. "You can take command of my legion if I die."

"I don't want to take command of your legion; I want _you _to," he said angrily. "What is more, I'm tired of you acting like no one cares about you, because someone _does _care about you, and can't live without you. That person is _me._"

That was something Adriaan hadn't anticipated. This was not supposed to happen. Jedi students weren't supposed to say such things, especially to their own Masters. Embarrassed and angry, she pushed him away from her. "Don't tempt me away from my destiny," she said, and left him holding nothing.

"Scramble all attack files; this is not a drill. Repeat: THIS IS NOT A DRILL."

Adriaan leaped aboard her Jedi starfighter and watched with satisfaction as her legion, including the elite squad, efficiently and precisely made preparations for takeoff. She prepped the engines and powered out of the hangar, followed closely by the clone fighters.

"Keep your mind and your hands steady; you're going to need them both to win this battle," she directed.

"Affirmative, Commander," Ember said. "Tighten formation, boys."

"_Eclipse _Leader, this is the _Umbra," _a new voice said, popping into the frequency.

Adriaan's hands automatically jerked toward the buttons that would cut off the transmission. "Go back to the ship, Klamin; I don't want you out here in our way."

"No, you don't understand," Klamin protested. "I'm here to help you."

"Well, don't get in my way, then," Adriaan said ungraciously. She was still mad at him…but she didn't know exactly why she was angry.

"Approaching target, ma'am," _Eclipse 7 _said.

"_Republic's Hope_, status report!" Adriaan rapped out.

"No GOODS are appearing on our scopes," Heatrian said. He sounded confused. "Perhaps they are distracted?"

"Distracted by what?" Adriaan twisted inside her cockpit bubble to get a better view of the fortress. "_Eclipse 21, _do you see anything from your position?"

"It appears that there is a large structure being positioned on top of the fort," Comet replied.

"I've been picking up enemy chatter," Nano said. "It seems to be a superweapon of some kind."

Superweapon? What did the CIS need with a superweapon?

_Zylxx was destroying itself._

Suddenly she understood. The CIS was targeting Zylxx.

"_Eclipse _squadron, take evasive action!" she said.

"But, sir, they haven't attacked us," Comet protested.

"That's because they're too busy trying to destroy an entire planet," Adriaan said grimly. "A Republican planet. Now, do you want to let them get away with killing innocent people, or are you going to help me destroy that weapon?"

"We're right behind you, ma'am!" Lance shouted.

"Good. Bombers, target that CIS weapon!" Adriaan yelled.

"It will be done with pleasure!" Rez yelled back as he and several other V-wings broke off formation and twirled down to attack the weapon.

Then the first vulture droids were released.

"Finally, some action!" Rez commented.

"Follow me, boys," Klamin yelled as the _Umbra _changed direction to attack the incoming fighters.

"Negative, Apprentice J'Oli," Adriaan said. "Clones, you may lock onto your own targets and maneuver at will."

"Sir yes sir," Comet said, his fighter spinning in a graceful arc as he expertly dodged missiles heading toward his craft. Adriaan watched as the missiles missed him by mere millimeters and crashed into an asteroid just behind him. He guided his craft in an Immelmann

over the asteroid and fired at the vulture droids just as he was about to crash into them. Adriaan turned her head away to protect her eyes from the blinding flash of fire. When she looked back, all that was left of the vulture droids was a small field of metallic dust trailing behind Comet's triumphant ship, just like a comettail.

"Now I can definitely see why you were named 'Comet' _Eclipse 21," _Adriaan said.

"Flying is what I was made for," Comet answered simply. "Watch out, Commander, there's a trifighter on your tail. You need me to dispatch it?"

"Thanks, but I can handle these tinnies myself," Adriaan replied, going into a dive and swiftly reversing the position of her ship so that it was at a perpendicular angle to the enemy craft. She pressed the trigger, and the trifighter erupted in a blast of fire and dust.

"Never knew what hit him," Fyre commented.

"He went out like he was hit with a lightningbolt," Klamin agreed.

"_Eclipses 9, 10, _and _11, _do you need cover?" Adriaan yelled.

"We're doing fine. They have an autoturret defense set up around the perimeter of the fortress, but we can avoid them," Rez answered. "The weapon's armor is too strong, though; it has a deflector shield."

"Shoot," Adriaan muttered. "We'll have to come up with a different tactic to blow it up. I may have to land and blow it up with sabotage. _Victory,_ do a quick scan of the fortress perimeter."

After a few minutes, Jordin's young voice came over the comm system. "Like _Eclipse 21_ reported, there are autoturrets positioned along the surface area of the fortress. But it appears that the surveillance is focusing mostly on the side of the fortress that has the superweapon on it."

"Then I'll sneak in the back way," Adriaan said. "Before I disembark, where is the energy core of the fortress located?"

"According to the readout, it's at the bottom level, just beneath the surface of the asteroid," Marya said, breaking into the conversation. "If you hurry and don't run into any trouble, you could blow up the whole thing in about fifteen minutes."

"That's perfect," Adriaan said. "_Republic's Hope, _this is _Eclipse _Leader, move the fleet as close to the superweapon as you can to create a distraction. I'll be going in from the opposite direction."

"You'll need cover," the _Umbra _said. "I'm at your back."

"Master, how are you planning to blow the base up?" Nic asked.

"I dunno. I'll sabotage the generator so that it will overheat and hopefully start a chain reaction that will blow up the place…"

"That won't work," Klamin said. "The generator usually has a backup energy outlet to prevent a minor overheating from becoming a catastrophic explosion…you're obviously not a technician."

"Right. I'm a Jedi," Adriaan snapped. "So, what's _your _plan, _Umbra?"_

"I tinkered with machinery in my spare time on Zylxx," Klamin answered. "I know a quick way to deactivate the generator and mess up the systems mainframe and create a short circuit that will feed into the liquid tibanna gas tanks they use for heating on the asteroid…"

"Wait a second, how do you know that they use liquid tibanna as a heater for the fortress?" Adriaan asked.

"You have to learn that sort of thing as a Zylxxian Palace Advisor," Klamin said. "It's really cold on Cÿÿ, so they have to resort to liquid tibanna to keep the facility from freezing up…"

"Ma'am, tibanna is very volatile; a few tanks of it would be way more than enough to blow up the base," Nano put in.

"Sounds like a pretty good plan," Adriaan admitted. "But a faster way to blow up the tibanna would be to place a few detonator packs around it. There's no need to hack into the system's mainframe and create a power leak."

"Good idea. I have some detonators in my survival pack; they should be enough," Klamin said.

"I guess that means you're going with me," Adriaan remarked.

"Yes."

* * * * *

"Admit it, you like having me along," Klamin teased as Adriaan began to cut through the ceiling of the facility with her lightsaber.

"I'd like you a lot better if you'd help more and talk less," she snapped.

"Oh, _yes_, Master_," _he said smoothly. "There shall be nothing more coming from my stinking shape-shifting hide from now on other than hard, physical labor."

"Done." Adriaan slammed her lightsaber into her utility belt and looked at him. "Bet you a big bowl of bantha stew at Dexter Jettster's that I can complete this entire mission without using my lightsaber after cutting open this hole."

"You got a deal," Klamin said easily, "Just don't expect me to protect you the entire time."

She smiled. "I don't need anyone's help. You are simply coming along for my own amusement."

"Really? I suppose that is your idea of a compliment, so thank you."

Adriaan jumped into the hole she had created, and landed neatly on her feet at the bottom. Klamin landed with a slightly heavier _thud _and began to crawl forward.

"Wrong way," Adriaan whispered. "The turbolift's the down here."

She knew she was right, for she could sense things through the Force, and she could feel the throb of the repulsorlift motor of the turbolift through the floor.

They crept into the turbolift, and Klamin punched the buttons for the bottom level. They swiftly descended.

The lift doors screeched open, and the two Jedi slid out and began to run in the general direction of the central heating systems.

Suddenly, Adriaan skidded to a stop as ray shields went down. Klamin collided into her and threw her off-balance, but she was able to catch herself in time.

"Identification number!" a sensor commanded.

"What?" Adriaan asked. "You've got to be kidding me."

"Body heat sensor," Klamin murmured. "I should've known."

"Identification does not compute. Security defenses deployed," the robotic voice continued cheerfully.

"That does not sound good," Klamin said as the sound of wheeling droidekas penetrated the shocked silence.

"No, it _is _good," Adriaan said.

"How?"

"Because they're the ones that are going to help us get out of these ray shields," she answered. "Just watch."

She waited until the first destroyer droid had deployed from ball mode and pointed its laser cannons at her. It wouldn't be able to hit her because of the ray shields, so she just looked at it calmly and watched as the others surrounded her and Klamin.

"You are under arrest," the mechanical voice said happily.

"Is that something I'm supposed to be glad about?" Klamin asked, frustrated at the tone of voice the sensor was using.

"Hands up."

"Put 'em up," Adriaan hissed to Klamin. "They won't raise the ray shields until we do."

Klamin shrugged, morphing into a Besalisk and putting all four hands up in the air. "Is this good enough, you walking piles of recycled waste tanks?" he demanded of the droids.

Adriaan smirked as the shields were raised.

"Keep your hands up and let yourself be escorted in an orderly fashion," the speaker said.

"Why?" Klamin hissed.

"You will be pulverized if you do not."

That was obvious. The droidekas were still pointing their cannons at them. But that didn't worry Adriaan because she could deflect blaster bolts using the Force. But she could only do that when her enemies were all attacking from one direction; she couldn't protect her entire body if droids were surrounding her. What she needed to do was to find a way to remove them without getting herself or Klamin killed in the process, and without a lightsaber, too, because she didn't want to admit it to Klamin, but she didn't have the credits to pay for even a handful of bantha fodder.

"_You will face many enemies during your life. How long and successful your lifespan will be depends on how you will prepare to fight your foes," her Master told her. She had just finished a strenuous workout, and she felt like every bone in her body had been broken in the process. She was so tired, she would have fallen asleep standing where she was, but she knew that her Master would make her suffer for even the slightest sign of tiring. He always worked her past her limit to see what she could accomplish. In a way, she sort of liked it; it made her more familiar with who she was._

_ The problem was, she never seemed to please him._

_ "So I must become the absolute best if I am to succeed in my life?" she said, taking care to keep her breathing steady._

_ He shook his head. "No, it is a very slim chance that you will be _the _best…no doubt you will meet enemies that are much stronger than you, enemies that you cannot possibly defeat without the proper technique."_

_ "What do you mean? Do you think I'm weak?" She flexed her arm muscles, which bulged considerably. She was ten years old then, and was immensely proud of her muscles. She could beat up a boy three times as heavy as her if she wanted to._

_ "You are a very strong girl, but strength isn't everything." He grabbed her head and shook it. "Your mind is what will help you defeat your enemies, for you have a very deep, interesting mind that thinks very differently from other beings. Use this to your advantage. Observe your enemies ––– how they move, how they speak, what emotions they convey ––– you can find a flaw in any of these, and use these flaws against them. You can take their own strengths, and use it to hurt them in ways they cannot possibly imagine…even in their darkest dreams. So think and watch before you make a move. And when you move, make it precise, aggressive, and flawless."_

She thought about the droidekas. They were very strong, and fired bolts very fast. They moved not by shuffling, but rolling.

_Rolling. Perfect._

She brought her hands down in a motion so fast it was merely a blur, and she knew it would take her captors a few extra seconds to process the action. But she didn't even need those few seconds. She threw her hands forward in a butterfly motion, pushing a wave of the Force toward the closest droideka. It was forcibly compressed back into a ball shape and sent rolling into the next destroyer, which started a chain reaction and ended up crushing all the droids. And Adriaan had only used a single, precise, aggressive, flawless motion to do it.

_See? Your Master did teach you a few good things after all._

"When are you going to teach me to do that?" Klamin asked as they bolted out of the hallway and burst through the doors of the central heating.

"I'll teach you with Kan and Kay; I promised them a few weeks ago, but never got around to it," Adriaan said, but then she stopped talking, for her mind had slipped, and she had forgotten what had happened. She would never get around to it. Kay Lee and Kan were dead.

She put a hand to her forehead, which was burning. Klamin turned to look at her. "Master?"

Suddenly, blaster fire pinged on the floor by their feet as a squad of battle droids appeared, firing at them. Adriaan took it all in a glance and push-kicked Klamin through the door and stood in front of the entrance, deflecting the blasterfire with her hands.

"For the last time, it's Adriaan, not Master!" she yelled.

"Right! But what the heck are you doing?" Klamin yelled back.

"They've gotten a reading on us. We'll have to split up!" Adriaan shouted. "I'll distract them until you get the detonators set. Contact me on the emergency scramble when you're done. I'll meet you where we landed our ships! Hurry!"

She did a straddle kick into two droids, sending them flying into the wall and shattering in a burst of sparks. Seeing an avenue of escape, she darted forward, sidestepping a battle droid in the process, and executing a back kick into its blaster, knocking the weapon out of its grasp. She bolted down the hall and made a sharp turn into the turbolift.

She pressed the button for the doors to close, but the sensor seemed to be jammed. "Come _on, _you can do it," she begged. The droids had appeared around the corner and resumed firing at her. Thinking quickly, she sent the Force toward the open turbolift doors, slamming them shut.

She knew that there was an emergency hatch at the top of the turbolift, so she kicked it open and Force-leaped into the shaft, carefully replacing the lid. She waited until she heard the turbolift doors being accessed, and the clank of battle droid feet was distinctly heard right beneath her. Inhaling deeply, she Force-pulled the hatch open and leaped inside.

In a closed space, dismantling the droids was as easy as licking the frosting off a cake. The quickest battle droid pointed at her head and fired, but she ducked down into a crouching position and smiled as the blast hit a different target, which was the battle droid standing behind her. She kicked the droid's feet, putting him off-balance and sending him careening into the next droid, who fell into the next, until they all fell in a heap on the floor. She grabbed a blaster, fired at five of the droids, then ducked her head as a fallen droid fired at her head. The blast pinged off the durasteel wall and hit the battle droid in the faceplate, deactivating him.

She stepped easily out of the turbolift and looked around at where she was. Noting her position, she dialed in Klamin's number on her wrist comlink and waited for him to pick it up.

"Still setting the charges. There were a few droids in here that I had to take care of," Klamin said.

"That's fine. I took care of the droids outside, but I'm sure more will be coming. I'm going to take a look around this place. They'll most likely go after me if since I'm walking in the hallways. I'm by the systems mainframe, so I'd like to take a look at what data they've got here. See you later."

The systems mainframe was being operated by only a few battle droids, which were very easy to take care of, especially since they had no idea what was happening to them when she attacked. Pushing aside the last unfortunate droid, she accessed the database and switched on the internal communications monitor.

"…The Republic fleet is still attempting to bomb us all out, but that's not going to happen," a droid was saying. "Idiot clones; it's obvious a Jedi isn't leading them, or we would be smoking piles of rubble by now."

Adriaan grinned.

"There's a red alert down on the bottom levels of the city," another droid said. "It appears to be a Jedi that infiltrated the lab."

"He'll never get out alive," the other boasted.

"It's a _she_, circuit-brain, and she's already taken out the squads we've released."

"So why don't we release the whole garrison on her?"

"Too dangerous. She's probably here to sabotage the planetary weapon, or she's on a rescue mission. We have to have droids monitoring the weapon and the detention bloc."

"Well, find out where she is and send all available infantry. And move that POW to detention cell 32218 under a heavy guard."

"Why? She's been through at least three of our interrogator droids…she's not going to put up much of a fight."

"Orders from the Count!" the other snapped. "He wants us to get Jedi dead or alive. Preferably alive, so they can use her for ransom or for that new cyborg warrior they created. Any Jedi can be a threat, even if she seems to be dead…so remember that. Besides, the Republic would pay our leaders a lot of credits for getting Commander Lee back…"

Adriaan's ears pricked. Commander Lee, alive? Were her ears playing tricks on her? She boosted the volume to catch what the droids were saying.

"Isn't Commander Lee only supposed to be a Jedi Padawan, though? She wouldn't be worth as much as Commander ell Talaan…"

"Jedi don't think the same way as we do. Trust me, they'll want their precious Jedi Apprentice back," the other one said. "Anyway, the Count has posted a big reward for the CIS leader responsible for catching Adriaan ell Talaan, and since ell Talaan's a Jedi, there's a pretty good chance that she might come here to rescue Commander Lee."

"Maybe that Jedi infiltrator _is _Commander ell Talaan," the first droid said, sounding scared. "If the Count has a reward for the capture of her, doesn't that mean she's pretty dangerous?"

"Or valuable to Count Dooku," the other added. "Whatever the reason, she shouldn't succeed in either rescuing Kay Lee or destroying the facility, or the Count will have General Epi'do's head. So get to that detention cell and remove the prisoner to a different location!"

"Roger roger."

Adriaan switched off the monitor, dazed. Kay Lee wasn't dead after all! _Then perhaps, there is hope after all, _she thought.

She had only a little time left to get to the detention bloc. Looking at a map of the facility on the screen, she quickly calculated the position of the detention bloc relative to her location. Then she contacted Klamin.

"Calling me continually isn't going to get the job done any faster," Klamin commented when he came on. "What is it now? Is it bad news? Or have you called to admit that you have used your lightsaber and now owe me a gigantic bowl of bantha stew?"

"Save your appetite; you won't be getting that bowl any time soon," Adriaan answered. "Actually, I thought you might want to hear some good news, but since you're busy…"

"Kan's alive? I knew it!" Klamin exclaimed. "He's a lot tougher than he makes out to be…well, where did your Apprentice disappear to?"

"Oh, no…it's not Kan," Adriaan said, the heaviness in her heart settling in again. "He hasn't been found."

"Oh." There was a pause in the transmission. "I'm sorry, it was just the tone of voice you used…you sounded so hopeful, and so I thought…"

Adriaan felt as though her heart was splitting in two with pain, and she knew that if she tried to tell Klamin the good news about Kay Lee, she would break down.

So she broke off the transmission and ran out into the hall.

Immediately, she began to feel better. She still felt sad, but she at least had a few things to look forward to. A rescue mission. Kay Lee. Seeing the look of surprise and elation transfixed on Klamin's face when he figured out that Adriaan had saved his friend…

_Not just his friend; she's my friend, too._

Her comlink began to signal alarmingly, and Adriaan hit it to silence the noise. She jumped into a turbolift, punched in the level for the detention bloc, and waited impatiently as it ascended two levels and came to a halt.

When the doors opened, she was confronted by twenty blasters pointed at her head.

"It's the Jedi. Get her!" a droid shouted.

Adriaan didn't give them a chance to take aim and fire correctly, but it wasn't like battle droids were big hotshots, anyway. She had seen clones stand motionless in a line of battle droid fire without even getting a scratch; that was how bad the CIS were at shooting.

She did a quick pop-up roundhouse kick into the control panel of the first droid, then did another pop-up kick with her opposite leg into another enemy as her first foot came down on the floor. The last eighteen droids started firing, but Adriaan slipped into their midst and simply ducked and sidestepped until the droids had accidently blasted each other to pieces. Wiping a bead of perspiration that had dripped onto her nose, she darted forward into the detention bloc.

"Halt!" a group of super battle droids looked up from the cell monitor screens and almost immediately began to fire at her. Knowing that super battle droids had better programming than the regulars, Adriaan held out both hands and pushed the droids back, rolling to the floor to avoid the laser cannons as they careened toward her. She leaped and did a split kick into the last two as the cannons exploded into the wall behind her and blew her forward, slamming her into a group of battle droids which had just left a cell, dragging something about Adriaan's size.

"Kay Lee!" Adriaan screamed, recognizing the flaming gold braids and tattered navy pilot suit, even underneath the grime of the prison. She twisted her body in midair to make sure that she would hit the droids instead of her friend.

Force-pulling a fallen blaster toward her, she fired five times until she finally crashed into the last droid, sending him flying into the open cell and exploding in a small bloom of sparks.

"Kay Lee!" she dropped to the ground and anxiously checked Kay's vitals. Finding the girl still alive but very weak and unconscious, she scooped the Apprentice up and threw her as gently as she could onto her own back, bracing her shoulders against the unaccustomed weight. Luckily, Kay Lee was small and thin, and lack of nutrients made her even less of a weight to carry, but in spite of all this ––– and the fact that Adriaan was abnormally strong for her size and gender ––– she doubted that she would be able to carry Kay Lee and resist the battle droids long enough to make a clean escape.

That still didn't stop her from trying, though.

She decided to take it slow, and conserve her energy, but that still didn't eliminate the factor of droid confrontations. She had not gone ten steps out of the detention block before she heard the dreaded clatter of droidekas rolling down the hall.

She couldn't dodge very fast with Kay Lee's limp body practically falling off her back every time she moved, so she had to resort to using the blaster rifle she picked up, and the Force when the weapon wasn't doing the job for her. She still wasn't in a desperate enough predicament to use her lightsaber, but she was wishing now she had never made that bet with Klamin. Lightsabers just made everything so much easier.

"Adriaan! Come _in, _Adriaan! Do you copy? Respond, Commander!" Klamin's voice shouted from her wrist comlink.

"I'm all right," Adriaan snapped. "Just distracting the clankers for you. Do you need me to get back there and help you?"

"No, the job's finished," Klamin answered. "Why did you break off the transmission?"

"I was busy," Adriaan said. "And I've got a little surprise for you."

"Well, hurry up; the facility's gonna blow in a few minutes."

"I don't think I'll make it; if I don't arrive in two minutes, I want you to take off without me," Adriaan said.

"Adriaan, are you nuts? I'm not going to leave you here and watch you blow up with this place! Drop whatever you're doing and get over here before I have to come in and drag you into the _Umbra _myself!"

"I gave you an order, _Padawan _––– ah!" she gasped aloud as a blaster bolt she had somehow failed to deflect back exploded in her right thigh. She fell to her knee, trying to get away from the blasterfire and stopping Kay Lee from sliding off her back at the same time.

"Adriaan? Adriaan! Respond! ADRIAAN!" the transmission was beginning to break up. Her comlink had been damaged by a glancing hit, and was beginning to burn into her exposed wrist. She ripped the ruined comlink from her arm and threw it into the first line of battle droids, hitting one square in the eye sensor. It veered sideways, blindly knocking over two of its comrades in an attempt to get rid of the smouldering object.

"Sorry, Klamin," Adriaan said, hauling herself to her feet and facing the line of attackers. "But I guess I shouldn't be sorry, for if I make it out of here, I'm going to have to owe you that trip to Dexter's Diner in Coco town."

Adjusting Kay Lee's position so that her legs and arms hung over Adriaan's shoulders like a scarf, she flung out her left hand and called upon the Force. Her lightsaber snapped into her hand faster than lightning, and she moved her fingers down the textured surface, getting a firm grip.

"Uh-oh," the first droid said.

"Roger roger!" several others said in much higher voices.

"Would you like to die by being sliced in half, getting cut into several pieces, getting your head chopped off, or being telekinetically pushed into a wall and exploding into a ball of fire?" Adriaan asked menacingly. "Or would you rather get scrapped by being shot by a blaster bolt?"

"Uh…blaster bolt," one droid said stupidly

Adriaan grinned. "Okay then, blaster bolts it is! Droids, fire!" she commanded.

"Roger roger!" a droid said, confused.

"No, you idiot, you don't obey the Jedi!" another one protested. "She's trying to kill you!"

"Well, she did command us to fire!" the other one pointed out.

The droids all looked at each other, shrugged, then looked at the commander.

"Fire!" the droid shouted.

The first blast was aimed at Adriaan's lightsaber, so she didn't even have to move her arm to deflect the blast and send it into the battle droid's head. Some of the blasts missed her entirely and pinged on the walls behind her, but most of them were headed for her, and she had to keep her lightsaber moving like a flash of lightning to keep any from striking her. The droids fell down one after one as blast after blast was sent right into their control panels with deadly accuracy.

"Send in reinforcements!" a droid yelled.

Adriaan shrugged and charged forward. "You said you wanted to die by a blaster bolt! Is this not good enough for you?"

She leaped and swung, ducked, kicked, punched, and swung again; knocking, chopping, tripping, smashing, crushing, and slicing mechanical limbs, metal faceplates, control panels, blasters…anything that got in her way was instantly annihilated. This wasn't the smooth, flawless Jedi form trainers taught at the Temple; this was hard, aggressive, cold, merciless, bloody fighting. Yes, there was no emotion or feeling other than the need to get the job done whenever her lightsaber was brought down on a luckless droid's head, or her foot found itself making a dent in a control panel. It was sloppy fighting, partly because she had a body on her back, but it wasn't against her Jedi core because she put no emotion into her attacks.

But why was she screaming, forcing a bloodcurdling yell out, every time she punched a hole into a droid? How come she gasped and wheezed as if she were crying, yet no tears came? How come she felt this burning inside her heart, as if her body were about to be rent in two with exhaustion and grief?

_Kan Enik. _Her heart was no longer throbbing with the dull _thump, thump, _as it had done every day of her sixteen years. It was tapping out a new rhythm, a new sound, as she swung and swung until she thought her arms would give out. _Kan. Enik. Kan. Enik._

Suddenly, she found herself standing in the middle of an empty room, surrounded by the remains of droids. She had destroyed them all.

Adriaan looked at the battlefield she had created, and kicked at a droid part that had fallen in her way. She looked down at the remains of what had used to be her wrist comlink; all it was now was a small heap of black dust.

The comlink. Klamin. Facility going to blow up. Adriaan's mind snapped into military mode. She had completed her objective of distracting enemy forces long enough for the charges to be planted. She had been given the signal to go to the rendezvous point, but had ignored it. After all, she had a prisoner to save. The question was how long had it taken her to destroy the droids? Would there be enough time for her to get away before the facility blew up?

Liquid tibanna was not a standard type of fuel. It was extremely flammable, and prone to explosiveness. Ten detonators could blow up an entire tibanna mining facility if they were planted properly.

Once the charges Klamin had set blew up, they would set off a chemical reaction with the tibanna that would cause the whole place to go up in a ball of flame. There would not be enough time for Adriaan to get away once that happened. When the detonators were set off, the end would be quick, violent, and final. There would be nothing to mark the spot where Adriaan had fallen, for there would be no Adriaan. Or Kay Lee, for that matter.

Or Klamin, because she knew that if she didn't arrive at the rendezvous point, he wasn't going to leave. The kid had the loyalty of a Wookiee.

Thinking about this made Adriaan realize something. She didn't have time to groan in agony over her wound, or sit down and just wait out the last moments of her life. That time had not come. When it was her day to die, she would be ready. But she had to at least try to save the ones that she loved.

Kay Lee. And Klamin. Everyone else was dead, but she would have a life worth living for, with Kay and Klamin at her side, the 503rd at her back, and the three new editions to the Varactyl Clan before her. She had made a commitment to them, and she couldn't let them down now.

For they all had one thing in common ––– their Masters had all died, and left them alone to live out the fight as best as they could. Adriaan was not going to be the same ––– she was not going to be another casualty of the war. For that's just what the CIS wanted; they had virtually an unlimited supply of droids and firepower, and were only waiting for the Republic to die out, so that they could take control.

Adriaan had to survive. She had a duty to the Republic. She could not let them all down.

As her mind processed all this, she knelt down to the floor, semiconscious of her wound. She closed her eyes and went into a meditative stance, for she needed to concentrate on the energy of the Force, and bend herself to its will.

She knew the time had come when she felt time spread out, unwind before her. The whole room seemed to expand, and grow long. She had successfully accessed her Force speed power. Now she would have plenty of time to get out.

* * * * *

Klamin almost fainted with relief when he saw a thin, white hand scarred with a black tattoo reaching out of the hole in the durasteel. He strode forward and grasped the hand in both of his, hauling her out by the wrist.

"You're a lot heavier…than…you…look," Klamin panted. Suddenly his eyes widened.

Adriaan grinned at him weakly. "Surprise."

Without a word, Klamin lifted Kay Lee from Adriaan's back and threw her like a doll over his own shoulder.

"I can carry her!" Adriaan protested angrily, yanking at Kay Lee's arm to pull her off Klamin.

Klamin yanked her away. "Adriaan, this is no time to be prideful and stubborn," he said. "Face it, you're smaller than I am, and I can shapeshift into something large so that I can carry her faster. All right?"

Her shoulders sagged in defeat. "Fine."

Klamin nodded and began to move quickly toward the starfighters. "Seriously, Adriaan, you're treating this like a contest. Loosen up and stop taking everything so seriously…life is funny."

He could tell that Adriaan did not agree with that statement, but at least she didn't argue with him this time. He hitched Kay Lee higher up his back and began to jog.

He heard the sound of a wheezing pant behind him, and he halted suddenly and looked back at Adriaan.

"Can't you run any faster?" she croaked.

Klamin took a good look at her. Her face was a shocking purplish color, but her lips were as white as snow. She walked with a limp, and Klamin soon found out why by observing a small pool of blood collecting at her feet.

"You've been wounded," he accused her. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"It's not bad," Adriaan protested. "Just a surface wound; I'm fine."

"No, you're not," Klamin said. "There is something very wrong with you ––– you should tell me when you get hurt!"

"It's not like you can do anything about it," Adriaan said sullenly.

"Actually, I can," Klamin said. Without another word, he stepped forward and slung her arm over his right shoulder, hoisting her on top of Kay Lee.

"There is no need for me to be carried. I am quite capable of walking myself," Adriaan said.

"Touchy, aren't you?" Klamin commented. "I think you're completely overreacting. Settle down."

They reached the ships at last. Adriaan quickly slid off Klamin's back and crawled into the open cockpit of her starfighter. Klamin set Kay Lee inside the _Umbra, _shapeshifting into a Jawa to minimize space, and squeezed in. The ships blasted off the asteroid and into space.

"_Republic's Hope, _this is the _ShadowFalcon," _Adriaan said. "We're peeling out. Facility should explode in ––––"

_KABOOM!_

"Right about now," Klamin said. "Good work, Commander. You really had me stumped on what you were doing in the detention bloc, though. I thought you had found Kan."

"If you had only replaced the 'N' in 'Kan' with a 'Y' you would have gotten it right," she said.

"Right. By the way, congratulations on completing the mission without your lightsaber. I guess I owe you a bowl of bantha stew."

"Save your credits, _I'm _the one who owes you something," she said. "I had to use it back in the detention level."

"Well, you almost did it; that's something."

"_ShadowFalcon, _this is the _Republic's Hope,_" Skipp said. "Target has been successfully eliminated. That superweapon won't be hitting Zylxx any time soon."

"Actually, I don't think it ever meant to hit Zylxx at all," Klamin said suddenly. "When I was setting the charges, I hid because a few droids came into the central heating to investigate. I listened in to their conversation, and it sounded as if they were trying to hit Zyzywlvlv."

"The binary planet? That's strange," Adriaan said. "Zyzywlvlv has never caused trouble for anyone."

"The Zylxxians certainly don't think so," Klamin answered. "They hate their binary planet. Not a single one of their public transports travel to Zyzywlvlv, that's how much they can't stand them. It makes me wonder…the droids were acting like they made a deal with the Zylxxians, but that doesn't make sense because…"

"I am sorry to interrupt, Captain J'Oli, but we are receiving a coded signal for help, coming from Zylxx's orbit," Skipp said.

"Put it through," Adriaan said.

There was a burst of static, broken by an occasional outburst of a young, male, human voice, which Adriaan thought she recognized.

"Help! This is Captain Enik of Republic troops in this sector, requesting emergency assistance…Zylxx…meteor showers…volcanoes…POOR…ZOOM killed…"

"Kan! Kan! This is Commander ell Talaan ––– Adriaan!" she yelled. "Kan, respond!"

But the transmission had been broken off, no doubt from interference from the asteroid belt.

"Tell the fleet to move out of the asteroid field," Adriaan said. "Do you have a lock on the coordinates from where that signal came from?"

"We've got it, Master," Jordin said. "Does this mean that I'll see Kan soon?"

Kan. Alive. It was too good to be true.


	25. The Eye of Heaven

chapter 25

The Republic fleet found relief at an outpost close to the Eye of Heaven ––– the name of the double helix nebula that lay close to the Syleeto system. The _ShadowFalcon _and the _Umbra _had landed safely in the hangar bay of the _Republic's Hope, _and Adriaan now anxiously awaited the _Victory _to land. The small assault cruiser had been the one that had pulled Kan's dying ship into the bay, and according to Marya, who was aboard the same cruiser, he was doing well. Adriaan had spoken to him via comlink, and he had told her everything: the destruction of Zylxx, the treachery of the ZOOM, the death of Na'thin and Hyrax…and the mysterious man Kestrel that had kidnapped her Apprentice.

Kay Lee had been immediately transferred to the emergency room on board. The medical droid had pronounced her to be emaciated, but unharmed otherwise. Apparently, the CIS had kept her more for ransom than as a way to siphon Republic data. So she had gotten off lucky by only being subjected to a light interrogation.

"So…this is it." Adriaan jumped; she had not noticed Klamin's appearance by her side.

"What is it? This is only the beginning," Adriaan said, confused at his tone of voice.

"It is? I mean…of course it is," Klamin said. "You're the Commander of an awesome legion now, and you've just gotten your own Padawan Clan, so you're right, it _is _just the beginning."

Adriaan looked at him curiously. "Why are you acting so strange? Was there something you wanted to ask me?"

He hesitated. "Actually, it's not so much asking as it is telling you that I…"

Ember marched up and saluted smartly. "Fleet has landed in respective positions; requesting permission to disembark."

"Oh…yes, permission granted," Adriaan said, turning away from Klamin.

"The 503rd would be very honored to have their Commander march out ahead of them," Ember suggested respectfully.

"I would be glad to, Ember ––– tell the others to look sharp, since this is a public spectacle ––– we don't want our legion to be the shame of the Republic army," Adriaan said.

"Yes, ma'am." Ember snapped to attention and moved off to alert his legion of their departure.

"I like Ember; he's really got the stuff that makes a great general," Adriaan said, throwing on her black cape and gesturing for Klamin to do the same. "I'm sorry, Padawan ––– you'll have to tell me later ––– for as you can see, I have my duties."

"Yes, I can see that. You always have your duty to do…that is your problem," Klamin said, almost inaudibly, but Adriaan still heard what he said.

At that moment, something softened inside her, and she wanted to let down her guard and just tell him, there and now, what her feelings were. She very nearly did, but the hard core of her Jedi training, as always, prevented her from speaking out.

_No, Adriaan. Your duty comes first, before anything or anyone else. Don't let your personal feelings get in the way._

"Please, excuse me," she told Klamin, and she swirled around, feeling the pleasure of her cloak snapped majestically about her ankles. She strode with a queen-like grace down the ramp of the _Republic's Hope, _savoring the rhythmic pounding of the clone's feet right behind her.

Every single military protocol fled from her mind, however, when she caught sight of a certain figure standing in the middle of the landing platform. Though he looked a lot more muscular and much taller than she remembered, she could never forget his face.

"Hey, Kan!" she shouted, quickening her pace. Suddenly she was passed by a red and white blur as Jordin ran down the ramp and threw herself into Kan's arms.

"Kan! Oh, Kan I am so glad to see you I was so worried with you out in Mid-Rim territory did you know that me and my former Master was stationed in the Rishi Maze it was so exciting but scary I hated it oh goodness Adriaan told me about the Wicked Club being fellow Apprentices that must be quite terrible have they changed at all –––"

"No, GOOD," Aedan said, running up with the rest of his cohorts. His eyes narrowed as he caught sight of the other Padawans behind Adriaan. "Who are those GOODS?"

"WICKED!" Heatrian screamed, rudely pushing the clones out of his way as he ran down the ramp with his arms full of the hologames he had promised to bring. "It is I, WICKED Heatrian, bringing your WICKED games that you requested!"

"Whoopee!" Andre screamed, grabbing _Laserball Pros _and hugging it to his chest. "Thanks, WICKED!"

"You were right about your room, WICKED," Heatrian said to Aedan. "It was definitely WMPD."

"What is the significance of the moniker WMPD?" Andora asked curiously.

"WICKEDLY Messy and Potentially Dangerous," Aedan said importantly.

"Are you telling me that Aedan actually has a _room?!" _Kay Lee appeared, supported by Klamin. She hobbled toward the group. "He hasn't destroyed it yet?"

Aedan shrugged. "Not yet. Anyway, I have to have a room to keep my WICKED miniature rancor because when he's not in a WICKEDLY contained space he goes –––"

Kay Lee held up a hand as Klamin gently eased her onto an overturned crate. "Just never mind. I honestly don't want to know."

"Your loss," Minir muttered.

"You don't look too bad for almost getting killed in a space battle," Kan said, freeing himself from Jordin's suffocating embrace long enough to look at Kay. "How did you manage?"

"I think Urak had a hand in it," Kay Lee said. "The CIS found me in an escape pod with him. He must've gone out into the asteroid field to look for me." She shook her head sadly. "He was the one they picked on in the interrogation chamber…he didn't last long."

"Luckless, ill-starred Urak," Andora said. "He was such a virtuous man. It is such a misfortune that we had to lose so many irreproachable fighters."

"Who cares about stupid dead GOODS?" Aedan sniffed. "What about my WICKED snack-snatcher?!"

"I'm sure you'll soon find a replacement snack-snatcher, though no one will ever replace Na'thin in our hearts," Adriaan said, but everyone was talking too loudly for anyone to hear her.

"You guys talk funny," Nic said, staring at the boys curiously. "I like funny guys."

Jahn Pal stopped sucking on his thumb long enough to shout, "Hey, we're _not _funny! Right, Sai'wer?"

"Huh? What?" Sai'wer sat up suddenly, his eyes wide with fright. "Three rights make a left!"

Everyone burst into fits of laughter.

Everyone, that is, except Adriaan, their Master.

Adriaan was not jealous that everyone was getting along nicely; she was happy about that. She was not angry that no one was listening to her, either, because she could not really recall a time when _anyone _ever listened to her. To them, she was just part of the background, someone that they should respect, but never allow into their circle. At least the clones didn't treat her that way; they treated her like she was actually _something._

_ Kay Lee didn't even thank me for saving her life. And Kan never apologized for being disrespectful. And Klamin…something's up with Klamin. He's not telling me everything, and that's not fair, because I stuck my neck out for him. I deserve to know._

She slipped out of the group, unnoticed, and stomped angrily over the edge of the platform, tuning out the laughter and joy behind her. Let them have their fun; they weren't going to go anywhere in life. But _she_ was, because she was the only one who didn't have people standing in the way of her destiny.

She looked up at the sky. The suns were setting, and the sky lit up with a flaming orange color that took her breath away. High above her, the Eye of Heaven glowed, looking at her with its piercing gaze. _If someone had eyes like that, _she thought, _he or she would be the most beautiful creature in the galaxy._

She unfolded her arms, and immediately felt her feelings being released inside her, and she didn't feel angry anymore. She had been overreacting, which was wrong. She was too old to be doing that anymore. She had told herself that she had not been jealous, but she had been lying. She _had _been jealous, because the Padawans had something she would never have.

A childhood, and someone to care for them. People that loved them.

If Adriaan had not been a Jedi, perhaps she would have known someone that had loved her, but she had no memory of her parents. Certainly they would have loved even such a terrible being as herself.

Her Master had not loved her. Her Master had used her, and she had suffered greatly. Because of what had happened to her in her past life, she would probably never be able to love anyone, even someone that loved her back. There were too many barriers inside her heart.

But if that was true, why did she care about Klamin? And Kan? And Kay Lee? If she cared, didn't that mean that she loved them, too?

Then, once again, Adriaan felt Klamin's tall shadow fall over her as he stepped to her side.

"Adriaan…"

She held up a hand to silence him. The quietness that followed was unbearably awkward. She could tell that Klamin was gearing up to tell her something that he felt was important, and she had no desire of listening to his meaningless babble. He felt that he was too old to have a Master/Apprentice relationship with her, yet she knew that that was what it would always have to be. She could never think of Klamin as anything else but that. It hurt him, but what else could she do? Together, yet apart, they faced the suns setting below the shining brightness of the Eye of Heaven.

Klamin turned and beckoned to the others. "Group hug!" he shouted.

The Varactyl Clan laughed and came running toward them, and the next thing Adriaan knew, she had her arms full of greasy Aedan and flea-ridden Kien, with Kan's head pushed against her ribs. Nic and Andre had clambered onto Klamin's back and were pulling Adriaan's hair, and Minir and Marya were sort of pulled into the group by Jordin's quick and eager hands.

Andora stood slightly apart from the rest, shaking her head in disgust. She turned as Rez strode up and saluted, eyebrows raised quizzically. "What is this?" he asked.

Andora looked at him and shrugged. "Pray do not observe such a heinous, appalling exhibition," she answered. "Such an abominable manifestation of devotion is objectionable behavior for members of our Order to display."


End file.
